X4: The Queen of Hearts
by BlackWodin
Summary: Summer has passed, everyone's favorite thief continues to change the lives of the X-Men.  Politicians, robots, assassins, catastrophic events – all a day in the life of the team. New faces abound, old faces return. ROMY  Sequel to X3: The Ace of Spades
1. Chapter 1: Tempest

_**WARNING: This story, X4: The Queen of Hearts, is the sequel to my other fic, X3: The Ace of Spades. This story will likely make absolutely zero sense unless you read the previous fic, so please go read that first. To those who've read the other fic, this begins about two months after the end of the last one, well into the summer for our characters, actually closer to the next school year than it is to the end of the previous one.**_

_Disclaimer: X-Men is owned by Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-Men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway ;)_

AN: Hey guys, back with the brand new chapter for the new Fic., hope y'all like it!

For those who have read X3: The Ace Of Spades, and want a refresher, or even those who just want an idea of what it was about before the ydecide if they want to read it, here's a brief summary of the events in that fic:

* * *

_Remy LeBeau (AKA Gambit) found himself in over his head when he unknowingly helped an anti-mutant group to massacre a community of mutants hiding in New York tunnels. He managed to rescue a young mutant, Sarah, and eventually sought out the help of his old friend Ororo Monroe, and Charles Xavier's mutant school to help her get control of her powers. There he met and hit it off well with Rogue, who was struggling through the death-throes of her relationship with Bobby Drake who he did not get along well with. Aside from a few spats with some of the residents, he and Sarah found Xavier's school to be a welcoming new home, and Remy began filling in as a substitute teacher when needed._

_The 'Cure' for mutants was announced, and after realizing her relationship with Bobby was over, Rogue traveled into New York, and considered taking the Cure. Ultimately after remembering words from Remy and Logan, she decided against it, only to shortly thereafter find herself holding a dying Carol Danvers in her arms. Carol was wearing a nullifying collar, and mortally wounded, she gave her dying consciousness as well as her mutant powers of flight, strength, and invulnerability, to Rogue through prolonged contact. It took some adjusting, though a massive attack by Magneto on San Francisco's Alcatraz Island – the sight of the Cure lab – gave her plenty of practice using her newfound powers. After the attack was thwarted, Rogue and Remy found themselves growing even closer and going on dates, and even out to Colorado for a spring break holiday. _

_The X-men discovered that the group Remy had unwittingly helped, in reality worked for the Chief of Staff of Graydon Creed, a Senator who was running for President, and subsequently learned that he was the mastermind and secret funder of many of the growing anti-mutant groups and movements across the country. The X-Men team grew overall, despite the loss of one of their own – Cyclops – at the return of one they thought was dead- Jean Grey, who has been struggling against a powerful second personality known as the Phoenix. Many of the trainees also joined, including Dani Moonstar, Jubilee, and Sam Guthrie. Remy proved to be an invaluable member of the team, planning several of their missions using his experience in the Thieves' Guild. One of their missions rescued a mutant named Nezhno, as well as another named Lorna Dane who quickly developed a bond with the newly-arrived Warren Worthington II._

_An offer from Nick Fury of SHIELD to join a black-ops mutant taskforce called X-Force opened even more doors, and introduced several of the team to Domino, Blink, and Jamie Madrox, and allowed Xavier's team to extend their reach and influence in their attempt to take down Graydon Creed's anti-mutant organizations, and hopefully the man himself before he can become President of the United States. Their increased operations lead them into an encounter with an artificial intelligence-driven group of robots developed by the military and stolen by the anti-mutant Purifiers, known as S.E.N.T.I.N.E.L.s. That encounter resulted in the wounding of several of the team, and the capture of Remy, who was then tortured by Creed's Chief of Staff for information, until the X-Men and the rest of X-Force teamed up for a rescue. Creed's Chief of Staff - Maldrone - was arrested, leading to a heavy political blow to the unprepared Republican Party nominee._

_After the rescue, Remy and Rogue finally admitted their love for one another, much to the delight of Sarah; and a new player entered the game, buying several islands in the Caribbean to form his own nation known as Genosha._

On with X4: The Queen Of Hearts!

* * *

**Chapter 1: Tempest**

* * *

"Charles picks de best vacation spots," Remy said sarcastically, his voice nearly drowned out by the roaring wind and loud pounding of rain even though he stood only a few feet from Rogue.

"Ah know, doesn't he?" Rogue shouted back, gripping the door of the hotel lobby tightly as the wind tried to snatch it from her grasp while she held it open.

She bent closer to Jimmy and Sarah who moved quickly out the doorway behind Lorna. "Hurry up, make a run for the van," she said, and they dashed off into the blinding rain, splashing water as they ran through nearly ankle-deep puddles covering the parking lot, toward the fifteen-passenger van waiting in the parking lot.

Nezhno came out after them, and ran for the vehicle as well, grabbing the door to the passenger compartment to keep it open for the two younger students to climb in.

Remy mentally ticked Nezhno's name off the list in his mind. "Dat's ev'ryone, _Chére_, let's get de hell outta here," he said, grabbing her hand.

They, too, ran across the parking lot, and Remy hissed out a low curse as something whirled through the air and hit the back of his head with a glancing blow.

"Yah alright?" Rogue shouted, concerned, as they neared the front passenger door.

Remy raised a hand to his head, wincing, but nodded, releasing her hand, and hurrying around the vehicle to the driver's door.

He slammed the door shut behind him, the roaring of the weather dulling slightly in the protective confines of the vehicle. Remy glanced back at the passengers of the van. Sarah, Sally, Jimmy, and Carter – the youngest – had visible expressions of fear, and so did the others, although they were able to mask it better.

"Ev'ryone ready to get out of dis place?" Remy asked, water dripping down his face from his hair which had been plastered to his head from the rain.

Sarah nodded, her arms wrapped protectively around her body. "Are we gonna be okay, Remy?" She asked quietly.

He nodded, giving the younger kids a reassuring grin. "We're gonna be fine. Jus' need to get to a safer place."

The wind outside seemed to pick up speed, howling even louder, and rocking the van from side to side.

"Looks like de weather wants us t'get movin'," Remy muttered, turning the ignition, bringing the engine of the van to life. He slid the shifter into gear, and stepped on the accelerator. The tires spun for a second before managing to find some purchase on the wet pavement, the van lurching into motion onto the road in front of the hotel.

He drove carefully – he always did with Sarah around, but with visibility at only a few hundred feet, and the roads covered in sheets of running water, the need to do so was magnified.

Rogue, next to him in the other front seat, reached into the glove box and pulled out a map, unfolding it across her lap. She examined it, glancing up every few moments at the street signs. "Alright, left turn here, only a few miles to the interstate," she said, nodding to the next street.

Remy slowed as he neared the dead traffic lights, which were swaying dangerously in the wind, and carefully turned the corner.

They found themselves traveling down the road opposite a convoy of several police cars and fire trucks with lights flashing, their loudspeakers blaring a prerecorded message that Remy and the others had heard minutes ago – a mandatory evacuation was in effect for the city of Fredericksburg, Virginia.

Their vacation had started well enough, Xavier suggesting that the students that were staying over the summer would benefit from some time away from the mansion, some time that would be both fun for them, and educational. He'd talked Remy and Rogue, as well as Annie, into basically being the chaperones for a trip to the Washington D.C. area.

The first week had been fun for everyone – they had spent the majority of their time at the National Mall, touring the Capitol Building, Washington, Lincoln, and Jefferson Memorials, and a trip near the White House. The rest had been spent in the various Smithsonian Museums – the Museum of Natural History warranting two days on its own. Sarah and the other younger ones had been especially mesmerized by the fossils filling the large building.

The next week had begun just as well. They'd driven to the hotel in Fredericksburg and used it as a base of operations, each day going to a different site of a Civil War battle.

They'd planned to get a little wet these last few days of their vacation before they headed back to New York, with Hurricane Diane moving up along the Atlantic Coast nearby.

Hurricane Diane had pounded the Caribbean and later Miami as a Category 2 storm, but weakened – as most hurricanes did when they began a track up the East Coast – to a low Category 1.

Overnight, however, it had shocked meteorologists by altering its behavior completely. They were saying it hit a patch of warm water along the coast, allowing it to suddenly grow to a Category 3, and make an almost 90 degree turn toward Virginia and Washington D.C..

As it traveled almost straight up Chesapeake Bay, the storm had weakened slightly, but not enough for the citizens of the region. The outer storm bands caused flooding in every creek, river, even any low-lying depression. The City of Fredericksburg had, only an hour ago, decided a full evacuation was in order when the storm fully made land and was tracking straight toward town.

Now sustained winds over 100 miles an hour were ripping roofs off of homes and shattering windows as everyone tried to flee the coming storm to makeshift emergency shelters in the D.C. area to the north.

While D.C. was the next expected target, the storm would lose much of its power by the time it reached the city, making it the most prepared and safe place in the area.

There was a loud roaring noise and rumbling beneath the van as their left tires kicked up a spray of water when it hit an ankle-deep puddle of water sitting in the center of the road.

Remy gripped the wheel, keeping control of the van as they cleared it. He squinted out the windshield as the wind picked up even more, driving the rain in front of them almost completely sideways, the mist as it splattered and was blown making visibility even more difficult.

"Guess we're gettin' close," Remy remarked dryly, his gaze slipping briefly over to Rogue as a green metal sign indicating the direction to the interstate flipped across the road, tumbling in front of the van and into the garage door of a nearby house.

"Remy, are you alright?" Annie suddenly asked, concerned, from the seat behind them – she had come along on the trip, bringing Carter, taking a break from the mansion, Hank there to make sure there was someone on-site in case of a medical emergency.

"Hm?" Remy asked absently, his eyes on the road.

She leaned forward in her seat, and pressed her fingers against the scalp of the back of his head, where the hair had slowly turned visibly darker than it had been just from being moist, as they drove along. He winced visibly as she touched his scalp.

She pulled her fingers back to find her fingertips coated with blood. "Remy, you're bleeding," she said, drawing Rogue's immediate gaze to her red fingertips.

"S'alright, you two," Remy said, reassuring them. "It's nothin' – somethin' hit me when we were gettin' into de van. Jus' a little cut."

Annie rolled her eyes at the way he always downplayed his injuries – she had not been pleased with him when he'd left the Med Lab while still recovering from his injuries at the hands of the Purifiers nearly two months before, and he'd been that way even when he'd first arrived at the mansion.

"I'm sure," she said wryly. "I guess it would be bleeding more if it was bad," she conceded – head wounds always looked a lot worse than they often turned out to be.

"Still, let me get a quick look – this will sting just a little," she said, leaning forward to feel out the extent of the small cut.

He jerked his head away, looking back for a moment. "When we stop, okay, An- Shit!" He broke off, exclaiming, as the headlights cut through the downpour to reveal a large, downed tree across the road.

He slammed the brakes and gripped the wheel, already prepared for the skidding that would cause more inexperienced drivers to panic and end up flipping the car or at least crashing it.

The van slid to a sideways halt mere feet from the enormous oak tree that had fallen from a lawn on one side of the road, across and on top of the car in the driveway of the road on the other side. The oak itself was likely several hundred years old, the thick trunk nearly four feet across.

Remy saw a loose phone line hanging from a swaying telephone pole where the tree had severed the lines as it fell across the road, and then his gaze fell on a woman yanking frantically at the handle of the passenger doors of the car the tree had fallen on.

Mindee spoke up from the back seat as her other two sisters gasped. "There's kids in the car. They're alive, but really scared," she said, the trio's telepathy instantly picking up the frightened thoughts of the children and their struggling mother.

"Damn," Remy muttered. "_Chére_, you up for a bit of weight liftin'? We gotta get dis outta de way anyway."

Rogue nodded, and opened her door, the wind nearly ripping it from her grasp. "Let's hurry, the worst of the storm's gettin' closer."

Remy whirled in his seat, looking back at his passengers. "You guys stay put, dis'll jus' take a minute."

Remy slammed the door shut behind him, and he and Rogue ran up to the woman. Remy touched her shoulder, and she seemed to snap out of her panicked state for a moment. "We're here t'help you," he said.

"My kids! Please, they're stuck inside. I can't open any of the doors!"

Remy nodded, and pulled her to the side. "It's alrigh', we'll get dem out," he said, looking at the car.

The tree had landed and crumpled the entire roof in at least several inches. The crumpling had bent the metal of the tops of the doors, jamming them shut.

He glanced to Rogue, who nodded, knowing what he wanted. She moved up to the large tree, and got the best grip she could of the largest branches resting on the top of the car, and then pulled up, straining slightly as her powers adjusted themselves to the weight. She slowly rose into the air, lifting the tree with her while moving slowly enough to make sure she had a decent grip and to be sure the branches didn't break as she held them.

Remy moved up to the glass window of the back door, and peered in to see two sets of frightened eyes – a boy who could barely be five years old, and a young girl nearly Sarah's age.

"You're mutants!" The woman exclaimed.

Remy nodded absently. "Yeah."

He placed his fingers against the glass and let his energy flow out into the material, causing it to glow with a bright magenta. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of his energy – something he was getting much better at with practice since he'd come to the mansion.

He slowly increased the energy, trying to match the vibrational frequency of the glass, and moments later he was rewarded when he matched it, causing the entire pane to shatter along its weak points, and slowly dissolve into a fine powder.

He ducked his head into the cramped empty windowspace, and smiled gently at the two children. "C'mon, let's get you to your mom," he said, reaching in.

The boy shrank back until his sister nudged him forward enough that Remy could grab him under the arms and carefully pull him out.

He turned, passing the child on to his mother, who sobbed in relief. "Timmy! Thank god, thank you, thank you," she rambled, gripping her son tightly in her arms.

Remy turned, and smiled at the young girl. "Your turn," he said.

She smiled shyly back, and clambered forward on the seat to let him get a grip on her.

Remy heard a sharp crack behind him, followed by a grunt and the sound of wood hitting flesh. He quickly pulled the girl the rest of the way out of the car, and whirled around.

The telephone pole he'd seen earlier had snapped and fallen toward the four of them, and he found himself staring at a very changed Nezhno, who slowly lowered the pole to the side of them, and let it drop.

Nezhno's tattoos were glowing white, his entire upper body bulked out with bulging muscles that began to shrink back to their normal size even as Remy watched.

"_Dieu," _Remy said, setting down the girl, letting her run over to her shocked mother. "Thanks, Nez."

Nezhno smiled slightly and nodded, before kneeling, and placing his hands on the ground in front of him. His body tensed for a moment, limbs trembling and shaking. He finally relaxed, and stood back up shakily enough that Remy grabbed his arm to steady him.

"Whoa dere, you alright?" Remy asked.

Nezhno nodded. "Yes, that wasn't a bad one. My powers put a strain on me when I use them, and I have seizures afterwards. I didn't use much this time so it was minor."

"Well, thanks, _mon ami_."

Rogue, who'd just finished maneuvering the tree back into the yard it had fallen from, well out of the roadway, hurried over to them. "Yeah," she said breathlessly, having seen the pole fall, helpless to get over in time to stop it. "Thanks."

The woman next to him looked up at the three mutants, a frightened look in her eyes as she held both her children tightly. "Thank you. We were – we were just about to leave for one of the shelters, and I was going back inside to get something, and the next thing I knew that was falling on the car," she said, nodding toward the tree.

Remy smiled, his eyes running over her totaled car. "We got some room in our van – we're goin' north of D.C.. We could drop you off at one of de shelters if y'want."

"Would you?" The woman asked, surprised.

Rogue nodded. "Of course – yah aren' gettin' very far in that car, an' Ah don' think it's very safe 'round here. Let's get y'stuff, an' get goin'."

The woman hesitated, and then nodded, and Rogue moved over to the back of the car, and pushed up the dented trunk, grabbing several of the suitcases the woman had packed. She passed them to Remy and Nezhno, and grabbed the rest, before leading the woman over to the van. She put the suitcases on the floor between Remy's seat and hers, and then climbed in as Nezhno followed the woman and her children inside.

Annie slid into the seat behind where she'd been sitting, allowing the woman and her children to sit in the front row, and she greeted them, running a practiced eye over them, looking for any obvious injuries.

"Hi, I'm Annie," she said, smiling.

"Jane," the woman said – her face wet with a mixture of the rain and her tears. "This is Timmy, and this is Taylor," she said, her arms around each child's shoulder.

Annie smiled, and pointed around the van, as Remy started up the engine, introducing the others. The woman seemed especially surprised to see several children her daughter's age within the van.

"Y-you're all…. Mutants?" Jane asked hesitantly.

Annie nodded. "Everyone but me."

"I… why would you help someone like me? I'm just a human…." Jane said, looking at them with uncertainty written across her face.

Rogue turned in her seat, and smiled at the woman. "So are we, really. Jus' a little diffren' DNA in a few places. Yah and your kids needed help, an' we helped."

Jane slapped a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you – I've just never met mutants before – just what I've heard on TV, and-"

Rogue shook her head. "Ah know. Despite what yah might've heard on TV, most of us aren' bad people. We jus' wanna live our lives like the rest of yah."

Jane nodded slightly, tears returning to her eyes. "Thank you, for stopping to help us. If you hadn't been there, and hadn't been mutants…" she shook her head slightly. "Thanks – I'll always remember this."

* * *

Remy let the door interconnecting the two hotel rooms click shut quietly behind him. He'd just left the room the younger kids were sharing – Sarah and Sally on one bed, and Carter and Jimmy on the other – having finally gotten Sarah to fall to sleep and stop worrying about the storm.

He passed the first bed – Lorna and Annie were already sound asleep on it – and smiled at Rogue where she was sitting up, leaning against the headboard of the second small hotel bed, reading a D.C. guidebook they'd found invaluable on the trip thus far, only the flickering light of the television and the small lamp between the two beds providing illumination.

Of course, that was aside from the frequent lightning flashes outside, but the rain itself seemed to dull any outdoor lights.

He moved to the right side of the bed, and let himself flop backwards next to Rogue, who turned her head to roll her eyes at him for shaking the bed.

"Hey," Rogue said quietly. "She asleep?"

Remy nodded, kicking off his shoes, then slipping in underneath the covers, the air underneath already warm from Rogue's body heat. "She's out of it. Adrenaline was still pumpin' from de excitement of de day, but it was also a long day, so she's crashed pretty good."

Rogue set the book on her blanket-covered lap, and scooted over, closer to Remy, and he slid an arm around her.

"Sorry our vacation's been ruined now," she mumbled. "Ev'rythin' we were gonna see is either flooded, or got miles of storm damage an' downed trees 'round it."

Remy turned his head to the side, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "S'okay, wasn' your fault. I'd only blame you if y'were Stormy." He said with a grin.

Rogue chuckled softly. "Wish she could've come, she might've been able to do somethin'."

Remy grunted, and pulled Rogue closer. "Yeah, but she's gettin' pretty involved in dat thing wit' Warren an' Xavier. Think dey're supposed to have de big first meetin' tomorrow."

Rogue ran a gloved hand up and down his chest, staring off toward the window thoughtfully. "Yah think there's anythin' else we can do 'round here, or should we just cut it short an' head back tomorrow?"

"Well, I mentioned somethin' to Lorna, while y'were helpin' dat woman get into de shelter before," he said – they had dropped off Jane and her children at a shelter to the north of the city, and continued on until they found an open hotel.

"Yeah?" Rogue asked softly.

"She thought maybe we could hang around for a few days in de south of de city where things got hit de worse, an' offer our services to de police, or even jus' find some place we c'n help. It even might make it on the news as a bonus and get some positive press for Warren."

Rogue chewed her lip thoughtfully, enjoying Remy's arm around her, tickling her back with his hand. "She's right. We should." Rogue grinned. "Not surprised she thought of that to help him out – they're so cute together."

Remy chuckled. "I guess so. Don' think Warren'd like bein' called 'cute' though," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Yah boys an' your aversions t'words like 'cute'." She said exasperatedly.

Remy grinned, and kissed the tip of her nose. He pulled her closer, against his chest, and moved a leg forward, tangling it with both of hers. "Should get some sleep, if we're doin' dis tomorrow, _Chére_ – 'sgonna be a long day."

She nodded, and looked up sleepily at his face, glad they were both well-covered, enough for them to lie together like this. "Alrigh', Sugah. G'nite. Love yah." She said – each time, even having been months since they'd first said it, seemed like brand new.

Remy kissed her forehead, and rubbed her back gently. "Love you too_, ma_ _Chére_," he murmured softly, the words sending tingles down her spine that kept her warm and contented as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Lorna? Lorna, can you hear me?" Warren asked, his cellphone pressed to his ear, trying to make out what she was saying. "Are you alright down there?"

"Yeah … reception…. good, most of the cell … damaged." Came her voice over the other end, broken up by loud static.

"Are you coming back?" He asked his girlfriend – he'd wished he could have gone on the trip, but it had overlapped with the day he'd set up to meet with those who'd funded Mutants Without Borders: essentially the first Board meeting.

"No, …. a few more days, help- …. cleanup. …look at the news… you'll like it," she replied. "Gotta go. See…two days."

"Alright, see you," Warren said, and heard her end click suddenly, losing its signal.

He sighed with relief – he'd spent most of the morning trying to get in touch with Lorna, or even any of the people who'd gone on the trip with her, but the cell-phone towers had taken a beating during the sudden hurricane, and were just now being repaired. Most of the towers were being overloaded by the flurry of calls from people to their loved ones. Calls that did make it through, it seemed, were filled with bad reception.

He walked over to the television, and grabbed the remote and began flipping through channels, each showing variations of stories on the impact of Hurricane Diane on the Greater D.C. area, and its southern neighboring cities.

He dropped the remote in surprise when he happened upon a station, and realized why she'd wanted him to look at the news – the screen showed a grainy but still visible picture: Lorna, instantly recognizable due to her green hair, stood next to several firefighters, her hands held out toward a collapsed building.

Rogue flitted across the screen, flying to the building that Lorna was apparently helping keep stable. She grabbed a large chunk of the roof, and flew away with it before returning once more. Annie was visible in the background, kneeling next to a woman, treating a large gash on her arm, and Warren could make out several other figures he assumed were the others, helping out where they could.

_"This is just one of a number of reports of this small group of mutants assisting local authorities in search and rescue operations and cleanup of the most serious damage to the areas hardest hit by Hurricane Diane," the reporter said, images switching from the grainy feed of the video showing them to a stream of general images of the storm damage._

_"We talked to the D.C. Police Department just moments ago, and they confirmed that this morning several groups of mutants offered their services on the cleanup, the largest of which you saw in the previous video. The larger group, our source said, gave invaluable assistance, especially in finding survivors. Several members of the group apparently have telepathic mutations, and were able to direct rescue teams to the precise location of survivors within buildings, opening up more ground for searching by allowing the dogs normally suited for that task, to search in other places simultaneously."_

_"Our news crew attempted to get an interview with the mutant group, but they were very secretive, only saying they were members of a mutant humanitarian group, and they would make clearer statements in the next few days."_

_"Now, in other news, a series of wildfires in California…."_

Warren smiled, and turned off the TV set. They'd kept their statement vague enough that when he went public in a few days with the now-operational Mutants Without Borders, they could feed off the positive publicity of this, especially the humanitarian side of his NGO.

Warren glanced around the room, at the small building he'd leased as the headquarters of Mutants Without Borders, just inside North Salem, close to the Mansion. He was in the back room, where a long table ran across the room, complete with plush chairs he'd found on sale – the television was hanging on the wall at one end of the room, hooked up to the computer system of the building which would allow him to display anything from his laptop or PC in the building on the screen.

He turned when the door opened, revealing a brown-haired woman with light-blue eyes, flanked by a taller man with reddish-blond hair.

Warren smiled, and moved forward to shake their hands. "You must be Moira and Sean," he said. "It's nice to finally meet you – Charles has told me so much about you. Thanks for making the trip over."

"It's nae any trouble," Moira said, smiling. "We're turnin' this intae a wee holiday, anyway."

Warren smiled. "Hopefully the weather from this hurricane doesn't ruin it for you. Several people from the mansion are down by D.C., and they had to evacuate yesterday."

Sean nodded. "Charles tol' us. We're thinkin' of going to the West Coast, so it shouldn' affect us."

Warren gestured toward the table. "That's good. Well, sit down wherever you like, we should start soon, just waiting on a few more. I'm going to check on Charles and Ororo," he said.

He moved to the door of the room as Moira and Sean grabbed the two nearest seats. He slid through the partially open door, his folded wings brushing against the doorframe, and moved out into what was essentially the office area. Several desks were set up, each with a computer and its own phone line, and a small reception area took up the entranceway.

He'd already put out advertisements for positions within the organization, and had met a number of people that applied. He'd found two promising ones so far – one man that had worked with another NGO for several years who was looking for a new position with an up and coming group like MWB, the other a young woman whose entire branch within a large law firm had been downsized with the recent economic troubles, who had excellent recommendations.

It was all but official with those two – the man would be an advisor and in-office manager of projects, and the woman would work as the secretary of the organization. There was, however, a lot more to do, and many more to hire or intern.

Warren moved to the front reception area, where Xavier sat next to Ororo. "Hey," he said. "I finally got a hold of Lorna."

Ororo looked up, a smile crossing her face. "That's great. Are they doing alright?"

Warren nodded. "The reception was pretty bad but it sounded like they were fine. They made the news – they're out there helping the emergency services clean up and rescue people. They're saying they're part of a mutant humanitarian group," he said, grinning slightly.

Charles chuckled. "Good idea. It will definitely create a bit of good will for when we go public here."

The front door, solid glass – the building had once belonged to a small law firm, and Warren had left most of the building intact – swung open, and two men entered. The first was tall, well over six feet in height, his upper body clearly well muscled, short blond hair covering his head. The second was a shorter man with sharp features, and brown hair with graying around his temples.

"Charles, 'Roro, good to see you," the first man said with a strong British accent. He turned his gaze to Warren. "Brian Braddock," he said, extending a hand.

"Warren Worthington. It's nice to meet you."

The second man grinned slightly, and extended his own hand, by lengthening his arm as if it was made of putty. "Reed Richards."

"It's great to finally meet you, Mr. Richards, I've been a big admirer of your scientific work," Warren said.

Richards smiled. "Please, just Reed. I was sorry to hear about your father and his company – how's he doing?"

Warren shrugged. "Alright, I guess. I talked to him last week. It was a really big blow to the company, going to be hard to recover from this, but at least he made sure to diversify. If he hadn't…"

Reed nodded. "That's what I figured."

Over the summer, the rumors that had been swirling around the Cure failing in some mutants had exploded into the mainstream news as more and more mutants found their powers returning. First it was just the original test subjects, but more recently it was the first to take the cure as it became commercially available.

Several incidents with out-of-control powers had hit the news as well, most of them resulting in deaths or injuries, and the mutants involved claimed they had taken the Cure, and had never had a problem controlling the powers before they had.

Overall, it had been a disaster for Worthington Industries, eventually forcing his father to admit that the Cure, like Jimmy's power, was for some reason only temporary. The original science had said that the Cure would bond to the genes of the recipient and remain there, nullifying the altered X-gene, but blood samples of the mutants whose powers had returned showed that the Cure was slowly detaching, and then being removed from the body.

Worthington Industries' stock dropped by nearly 60% with the revelations, and had been hovering there ever since, and the company had been compelled by the FDA to refund the clinics that had bought the supplies of the Cure.

That wasn't to say, however, they were out of business, or even that the Cure was now worthless. His father was working to change the message of the company, and while apologizing for the errors, also rebranding the Cure.

His father was certain that people would still be willing to pay for the opportunity to remove their powers for several months, and simply buy another dose when the first wore off. The new Cure would be treated almost like a prescription drug, doled out in doses taken over a certain time period. It would, however, take a long time to fully regain public trust in the company, and at the moment they were in danger of possible hostile takeovers by other companies in the same field.

And, of course, there was the chance of more incidents in which returning powers damaged property or injured people as those who had taken the Cure later on began to have it wear off in the coming months. Worthington Industries would be settling lawsuits for a long time to come.

The door to the front of the building opened again, revealing their final guest: a well-dressed man with long black hair held back into a ponytail, his skin pale, and his face adorned by a well-trimmed goatee. His eyes slid over the people of the room cooly. He nodded respectfully to Reed, who he clearly recognized, and then his eyes stopped on Warren, and it felt for a moment like he was looking right through him.

"Nathan, I'm glad you could make it," Charles greeted.

"I wouldn't miss it," he said, the slightest hint of a British accent seeping through. "I am surprised you invited me, and asked for my contribution."

Charles smiled. "Nathaniel, you know that while we have our disagreements, we're all on the same side. I've come to realize that that sort of dissenting, alternative voice is actually a good thing."

Charles turned his head toward Warren. "This is my colleague, Nathaniel Essex," he said.

Essex inclined his head toward him. "You must be the young Mister Worthington. I'm acquaintances with your father – you're the spitting image of him."

Warren nodded. "Please, call me Warren. I didn't realize you knew my father."

Essex shrugged. "Like I said, we're acquaintances. I've run into him a few times at scientific conferences and fundraisers. I believe we first met at a White House dinner, in fact."

Warren smiled, and then looked amongst the others. "Well, the others are already in the conference room, and I don't want to take up any more of your time than I have to, so why don't we start?"

He led the way toward the conference room, the others falling in line behind him. He heard Essex toward the back, introducing himself to Ororo, who Warren had seen him look at with particular interest.

Once they had settled down, having greeted Sean and Moira, Warren moved up to the head of the table, a bit nervous, but also thrilled. He'd sat in on many a board meeting while his father was trying to groom him to succeed him as head of the company, and now he was heading up his own.

"Alright, Shiro Yoshido is our final member, and I believe some of you know him. He extended his apologies, as he wasn't able to make it out here for this meeting." Warren said. "Now, I sent each of you all the information on Mutants Without Borders – are there any questions I could answer now, before we get started?"

Braddock nodded, and raised a hand slightly. "I had a few. When are we going to go public, and how much do you want the rest of us to get involved in that?" He asked, gesturing to the others around the room.

Warren smiled slightly. "I've got a press conference set up three days from now – I'll be announcing it then. I've been sort of hinting to some of the reporters I know that something big is coming up, and there've been hints of the organization in the news the last few days."

He spread his hands. "You? It's however involved you want to be. It'd be nice if you at least made some sort of press release I could share when I go in front of the cameras, just some sort of show of support, that sort of thing. Beyond that, it's whatever you feel is appropriate."

Brian nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not worried about public reaction over in the UK, so I'll go fully public expressing my support."

Most of the others expressed similar sentiments, and when there weren't any more questions, Warren passed out several folders, each filled with papers.

"Well then, let's get down to business. The first thing I wanted to go over is the emphasis we should place on the different parts of the organization – at the moment I think the humanitarian section could be very valuable to get us started…"

* * *

Kitty jumped, nearly dropping the book she was reading, when her cell phone suddenly blared from the dresser next to her bed.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes slightly to try to focus back on the rest of the world, rather than the words in her book, and she groped around until she snagged the phone.

She glanced down at the caller-ID on the screen, and smiled slightly to herself when she saw it Piotr's name above the number. Just the other day they'd spent the day together at the aquarium, and she wondered if he wanted to hang out again.

He'd been true to his word, and called her shortly after she'd returned home, and they had made it a priority to do something together at least once a week. It had been a welcome relief from her time being shuffled from her house to her father's new place several times a week, and from the inevitable arguments between her parents that resulted.

Kitty tapped the 'talk' button on the cellphone and brought it up to her ear, her mood already brightening. "Heya Pete, what's up?"

"Sorry, I sorta borrowed Pete's phone," Illyana's voice came over the line.

"Oh, that's cool," she said, her excitement slightly dimmed. "What's up?" Kitty said.

"Kitty, I need to talk to someone…. Sorta private, and I was wondering if I could come over and talk to you?"

"Sure," Kitty said, frowning slightly – she could hear strain in the younger girl's voice.

"Are you at your mom's place?" Illyana asked.

"Yep."

"Alright, I'll port over in a minute," she said.

"'Kay, see you then," Kitty said, hanging up the phone, and setting it down.

Over the summer, a number of the little trips into the city had been spent with both Piotr and Illyana, and she'd spend some time over at Kitty's house – or rather, just here at her mother's house: Kitty hadn't brought either of them to where her father and his girlfriend were living, as she felt awkward enough as it was when she was there.

She'd slowly become friends with the younger, spunky girl, and had even gone just with her when Piotr wasn't around. She smiled slightly, remembering the girl's love for shopping – once she came to school in the fall, she knew Illyana would have an instant friend in Jubilee.

Kitty frowned, the tone of Illyana's voice coming back to her again. The thing she admired about her was her refreshingly positive attitude toward the world, and especially toward her future. Something serious must have happened for her to sound so…

She broke out of her thoughts when a yellowish pink speck of light appeared in the air near the ceiling of her room, and then expanded into a large disk, through which Illyana tumbled out, letting out an "oof", when she dropped the several feet to the floor.

Kitty darted forward to help the blond-haired girl up, and Illyana smiled, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"First time porting somewhere is always the worst – I always end up aiming too high."

Kitty laughed softly. "Glad you ported over there instead of above my bed."

Illyana smiled again, but her heart didn't seem to be in it.

Kitty placed a hand on her shoulder. "What'd you want to talk about? You look pretty down."

Illyana sighed, and then sat down on the foot of Kitty's bed, looking glumly down at her hands.

Kitty sat down next to her, an idea beginning to form in her mind of what the problem was. "What's his name?"

Illyana looked up, momentary surprise in her eyes, and then sighed again. "Robert. We've been….. sorta dating since Christmas."

"First boyfriend?" Kitty asked.

Illyana shook her head. "I've had a few, but nothing really serious, until Robert."

"What happened – you guys break up?"

Illyana frowned, and a tear slid down her cheek. "I guess you could say that. He broke up with me."

She looked up at Kitty. "We were having a little bit of trouble since school got out, arguments over college, that sort of thing. We were trying to figure out how to make it work long distance, since he was staying here and I was going to New York…."

"He didn't like it, didn't understand, he wanted me to stay here and go to school at one of the community colleges here. I tried to explain, but things were just getting worse. So, I… decided to tell him the truth, hoping he'd understand – I told him I was a mutant, and I was going to New York because there was a school for mutants there."

Tears trickled down her face, her eyes full of pain, and Kitty grabbed her into a firm hug.

"He- he freaked, called me a liar, and a whore, a dirty mutie….. He sounded like one of those bigots you see on TV, or on street corners attacking mutants." She sobbed softly. "I thought… I thought he'd understand – he was never like that when I was with him, I didn't think he had any problems with mutants, I was just really nervous about telling him."

Kitty tightened her hug and she felt her shirt become damp where Illyana's face was resting.

"I – I really like him, before he blew up like that – I thought…." He voice lowered to a whisper. "I thought he was, y'know 'The One', everyone talks about…. I don't understand how I never saw what he was really like."

Kitty nodded, patting Illyana's back. "I know, it hurts. Especially when it happens like that. I've been through a few breakups of my own – just had one a few months ago, actually. They really hurt, especially when you really do like the guy."

She pulled back slightly, and placed her hands on Illyana's shoulders. "But you can't let him get you down. You were honest with him, and told him you were a mutant, and he couldn't handle that, so that's _his_ loss, not yours. No one that acts like that deserves you."

Illyana nodded slightly. "I guess you're right. It was going to happen no matter when I told him…. And I don't want to be with him if that's how he thinks anyway – even if I _wasn't_ a mutant I wouldn't."

Kitty smiled. "Exactly. And look at the bright side – you don't have to worry about working on a long distance relationship anymore." She paused and then grinned, "Besides, there's a few cute guys around your age at the Xaviers, especially now that we're inviting a lot more to register"

That brought a small smile to the younger teen's face. "That's true."

She sighed slightly. "Thanks, Kitty, for listening. Usually I'd talk to Petey about relationship things, even if it gets him a bit uncomfortable, but I figured he'd beat the crap out of Robert if he knew about this…."

Kitty giggled. "Yeah, he probably would. He might deserve it, but we don't want Pete to go to jail or somethin'."

Illyana looked shyly up at Kitty. "Kitty – thanks again, I already feel a bit better. You're…. I'm glad we're friends."

Kitty smiled, before looking seriously at her friend. "It's no problem. I know, all too well, how talking to someone helps. When my parents broke up, and then I broke up with my boyfriend a few days later….. Pete got me to talk to him, and I don't know what I'd have done if I hadn't had that as a sort of pressure-release valve. I'd have probably gone crazy. So I'm glad I could help his sister," she said with a grin.

Illyana swiped the remaining tears off her cheeks, and in that moment Kitty saw a bit of the spark she usually saw in her eyes, return. "Sorry I disappointed you when I called – my phone was dead so I 'borrowed' Petey's. You sounded so excited to hear from him," she said with a slight grin. "You guys going on another one of your little dates?"

Kitty blushed, her jaw dropping slightly. "I- I it's not like that. We-we're not dating. We're just friends, and he's helping me take my mind off of the divorce and all of this," she said, gesturing around her room.

"Right," Illyana said, although she didn't sound entirely convinced – she knew for sure her brother definitely had a thing for Kitty, and just seeing them interact, it seemed like there was some sort of deeper chemistry going on than just 'friends'.

Illyana stood up, winking at Kitty. "We should go shopping again sometime this week – I still need to get clothes for school, and we can spend the whole day mall-hopping if your parents are being a major pain."

Kitty nodded. "Let's. Maybe Wednesday? I'm headed for my dad's later tonight and then I get back here Wednesday morning, and that tends to be when they really get into their arguments. And then I usually have to listen to mom complain about how he acted for the rest of the day."

Illyana smiled. "Alright, give me a call and I'll port over to rescue you. I should get back – Mama is probably looking for me, she was finishing up dinner when I left. I'll tell Petey you want him to take you out somewhere again," she called as she left through the same disk of light she'd arrived in, albeit with less flailing of limbs.

Kitty groaned, Illyana's words bringing up her own inner conflict once again. She liked Pete – a lot – and that scared her, because she'd felt the same about Bobby. And it was different – Pete had been a great friend to her, supporting her through everything that was happening, and she was worried anything more might ruin the friendship that had begun to grow between them. On top of that she had no idea how he might feel about her.

She flopped back on her bed, and grabbed her book, leaving absently through it. '_Leave it to me to comfort a friend and then get all flustered about my own problems because I did_,' Kitty thought with a roll of her eyes as she tried to focus on the words on the pages of the book.

* * *

"_Kamaa baarakta 'alaa Ibraaheema wa 'alaa ali Ibraaheema, Innaka hameedun Majeed_," a soft, melodic female voice drifted through the dungeon from a cell in the corner of the prison complex.

Sooraya Qadir took a breath at the end of her intonation, her head bowed toward her lap as she kneeled on the floor of the cell, her hands resting on her knees as she finished her dawn, or _fajir_, _Salat_ – one of the daily prayers to Allah required for all Muslims.

She raised her head and then turned it to look over her right shoulder. "_As Salaamu 'alaikum wa rahmatulaah," _she said softly before repeating the process over her left shoulder.

She closed her eyes, and then slowly rose from her kneeling position, and made her way back to one of the rickety benches that were the only two pieces of furniture in this dark, dingy cell she had been living in for close to two months.

Her _abaya_, the robe covering her body, was covered with the dirt of this place, and tattered. The _niqab_ she usually wore, covering her head, was long gone – they had taken it from her on the day she had arrived.

It had been strange to be without it, especially around males not related to her. While at one time the _hijab_ dress had been forced upon her and those she knew, when she'd lived in Afghanistan, she hadn't minded, and even once she'd taken refuge in America, she had continued the practice.

It afforded her a sense of modesty, and it was comforting to her. It made men judge her on her words, actions, and thoughts, rather than her appearance unlike how they treated many of the women in the West here – and that was what she liked most about it.

Her captors didn't care, though, and she'd had to quickly adapt, especially with her male cell-mate who had been transported in the same truck as her that first day and remained with her since then.

She was lucky if they allowed her the fresh water to clean herself before each prayer, and she had been forced to listen to them denigrate her religion and her God.

They, the 'Purifiers' – what an ironically wrong name, she thought to herself – reminded her greatly of the years that she, her mother, and her older brother had spent under Taliban rule, before the Americans had driven them away from her small town.

She was thankful for her faith – it seemed the dual-impact of her being both a mutant and a Muslim was enough to deter the perverted men from her, something others in this prison weren't fortunate enough to be able to do. She could still hear the cries and the begging of the girl in the cell next to hers as the guards had their way with her, echoing through her memory.

Sooraya reached up to touch the cold metal collar around her neck, wishing once again that it was gone, that she could simply turn to dust and travel somewhere safe. A bitter smile crossed her face at the thought of her mother's nickname for her – '_Turaab_', which simply mean 'Dust' – given to her so long ago.

It was odd – back home, in the years after the American invasion of her country, things had changed so much for the better, and when she'd discovered her mutant abilities, they were praised by everyone she knew. Everyone in her town, at least, felt they were a gift from Allah, given to those with the strength to handle them, to use them for the betterment of all.

Here in America, there were few that felt the same. People like the Purifiers saw them not as a gift, but some sort of abomination, a view that she could not wrap her mind around.

A tear leaked down her cheek, as she wondered if she would ever see her mother again. Sooraya flinched slightly at the sound of the door to the cell area opening, the boots of several Purifier guards audible as they entered the large room.

She didn't know their names – didn't wish to. The only man she knew, was one she would remember for the rest of her life. He was the leader of the group, and the others called him 'Reverend' – he was the cruelest man she had ever met.

Sooraya knew he was no 'Reverend', and despite the words these men paid lip service to, they were not really Christians. No one, least of all someone who claimed to be one of the People of the Book, could ever behave like these men behaved – they knew nothing of the teachings of Christianity or Islam. They just twisted their religion with their hatred, and fed on it to sustain their group, and bring in fellow 'believers'.

The footsteps drew nearer, and she could hear a sound as if something was being dragged, and finally they appeared in front of her cell – two guards dragging a weak and beaten young man between them: her cell-mate.

One of the men pulled out his keys, and slid one of them into the lock. He shot a stern glare at Sooraya, warning her with his gaze not to even attempt to run, and she shrank back in the corner of the cell.

They got a firmer grip on the young man's arms, and started to toss him into the cell. He struggled, lashing out a foot into the stomach of one of the guards, which earned him several kicks into his own.

"Do that again and we won't be so gentle next time, freak," the uninjured guard muttered, slamming the cell bars shut. He glared at Sooraya. "Oh quit staring, you towel headed freak, or you'll be next." he snarled, before grabbing the other guard's arm and leading him away as he clutched his side where the kick had landed the hardest.

Sooraya waited until the door to the main room closed, and then she stood up and hurried over to the young man's side. "Must you always do that?" She asked, pulling his arm around her shoulder and helping him stand and lean on her as she walked him over to his 'bed' – the other bench.

He let out a soft chuckle, and then winced, grabbing his ribs with his free arm. "They deserve it," he said.

She helped him sit down, and then moved around in front of him. "I know, but it hurts you too," she said.

She reached up to brush back his shaggy blond hair, and grimaced at the sight of the long cut on his forehead. She moved over to the small bowl of water they gave each morning for cleaning herself, and took a small rag she'd fashioned from the torn bottom of her _abaya_. She tipped the bowl, letting water drip down onto the black cloth, and then came back to his side.

She ran the wet cloth along the gash on his forehead, drawing a muffled curse and a wince from him as she cleaned it the best she could. While the cloth was still cool and wet, she gently dabbed it around his right eye, which was nearly swollen shut, the brown of his iris barely visible.

She shook her head sadly. "What did they do to you this time, Alex?"

He gave a painful shrug. "Not much different than the usual. Beating, loud sounds in that little torture cell of theirs, you know the drill."

"The… drill?" She asked, confusion evident in her voice. She had only been speaking English for two years, and still some of the phrases people used caught her off guard.

He smiled slightly. "Sorry, 'you know the drill' basically means that you know what it's like. I think it comes from sports, they do exercises they call drills, over and over."

She shook her head. "That is strange."

He forced himself not to laugh, sighing slightly at the feeling of the cool cloth on his face, wiping away his blood, and soothing his bruises. "I know. And what's worse is every region has their own phrases that they use for different things. It takes a lot of getting used to. Don't feel bad though, there's stuff I'd never understand if someone said it to me, even in English."

He sighed as she removed the cloth, and then leaned back against the cement wall behind him, trying to get into a more comfortable sitting position. "Thanks," he said.

"You are welcome, my friend" she said as she carried the cloth back over to the corner, and rinse it as best she could, hanging it on the hard wood frame of her tiny bench to dry.

Sooraya sat down on her own bed, tucking her legs beneath her, and folded her hands on her lap, looking across the room at the man who had only months before been a complete stranger to her, and who was now her only companion, her only friend in this dark cesspit.

She ran a finger over the split bottom lip she had received only the morning before, still sore to the touch – she knew all too well what they put him through, because she'd experienced the same at their hands.

She had been frightened by him at first, his temper flaring constantly every time the guards came near, shouting, hurling curses at them until they were forced to shut him up. He had eventually mellowed out with every beating, but that had never disappeared completely.

But that had only been part of it – he was, really, the first man, aside from her father or brother, who had ever seen her without her _niqab_. It was a strange experience, knowing he could see her like any other woman, without that barrier between them.

Sooraya hadn't spoken to him the first several days, even when he tried to strike up conversations with her. It had led him, she found out later, to believe she couldn't understand or speak English, until she finally dredged up the courage to speak to him.

She found that her fears were unfounded – he didn't look at her as some sort of sex object, like she'd seen so many men do to other women, but rather as a companion, someone to talk to, and laugh with.

She found out his name was Alex Blanding. He'd just celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday – making him about four years older than her – several days before the Purifiers had attacked and subdued him with the same mechanical being that had surprised her in her home.

He was studying Geology and Volcanology in Honolulu, beginning what he called his 'Master's Degree', one of the higher degrees here in the United States from what he had told her. He'd been on a summer field camp with his class in the Appalachians, studying the geology of the area, when he had been abducted.

He had been just as interested in hearing her own stories, especially her time in Afghanistan, although it had taken a while before she had been willing to open up to him about the life she'd lived there.

Alex had also been interested in her faith, and asked her many questions about it: he'd apparently never known a Muslim before, and it was a novel experience for him, especially seeing her pray throughout each day.

He'd been very respectful, even asking her to teach him some Arabic – something he had haltingly taken to, reminding her of her struggles with first learning English. She had even taught him a few words in _Dari_, her native tongue, but it had been mainly Arabic, the language the _Qur'an _had been written in. He'd been even more fascinated with the Arabic writing system, and she'd shown him how to write his name, in the dust and dirt covering the floor of the cell.

His respect was a novel experience for her from people asking her about Islam. Most of the time it was rude, misinformed questions meant to mock her faith, when people even bothered to ask about it at all, but he'd been different.

The more she had learned about him, and he about her, the closer their friendship had grown, and that was the only thing she was grateful for about the whole ordeal. She secretly wondered if this was Allah's intent, to expose her to this young man, let her see how someone so different from her could still become her friend.

Sooraya laughed under her breath when she heard a loud snore come from his side of the room, and she stood from her seat, moving over to grab his arm and pull him into a more comfortable sleeping position. She pulled the ripped and tattered blanket – which had probably seen many a mutant in this dungeon before them – up over him, tucking it around his shoulders.

She didn't blame him – they'd taken him away shortly after evening fell the previous night, and from what he'd said not let him sleep as they took their time torturing him.

She'd had much the same done to her three times already since she'd been taken, and was hardly able to keep her eyes open as they dragged her back.

Sooraya patted Alex's shoulder comfortingly, and moved back to her side of the room, where she bowed her head, once again silently asking Allah, in his wisdom, to take them both from this place, set them free from these evil men. She wasn't sure how much more either of them could endure, but could only trust that He would know the exact right time to free them.

* * *

"How are your robots coming, Lang?" A sour voice asked from behind him.

Lang turned away from his computer console, to look at the man behind him. Eli Bard was tall, with dark hair swept back away from his eyes, and high, aristocratic features that Lang thought belonged more on an actor playing some sort of Roman nobleman, than it did on the sadistic man in front of him.

Bard, he'd found, was even more ruthless, and filled with hate toward mutants than Maldrone ever was, and seemed far more ambitious. The one thing he liked was that Bard was willing to let him play with his own projects involving the S.E.N.T.I.N.E.L.s with minimal interference.

Part of that, it seemed, was because Bard had more than enough of his own little projects going on here at the Montana Purifier base – adapted from a base that had originally been operated by a rogue government group known as Weapon X.

Lang sighed. "Slowly, just like I told you last week. It's going to take a lot of changes to make the adjustments to them that Graydon wants. They were designed mostly for combat with humans – mutants were only something I added afterward to the programming, so there are limitations we must overcome."

Bard frowned. "I'm running low on my supply of mutants. Have to keep my experiments satiated, you know. Could I borrow a few of the originals for a supply run?"

Lang rubbed his forehead. "I can spare two, and _only_ if you take them out of state for your run. I don't want a pattern to develop, or it'll be West Virginia all over again."

Lang looked up curiously. "You're going through them rather fast, aren't you?"

Eli shrugged nonchalantly. "Perhaps. But it's well worth it. With each one we get better refined."

"Why not use the girl?"

Eli shook his head firmly. "No. She's still adjusting to the pheromone treatment, and she was damn expensive to get this far. If I toss her in with the others….." He shook his head once again. "Once our lead scientist gives her okay, we will, but not until then. She said it might even be months before the girl is ready."

Lang glanced back at his computer terminal. "You'd know better than I would. I still think your little bioengineering experiments will be the end of us." He waved a hand. "Go, take Units 11 and 12 – they've not been on an op for a while. Could use the 'exercise'," he said, chuckling slightly. "I've got work to do. Remember – wreck them, and you'll be explaining it to Graydon, not me."

Eli rolled his eyes and stalked away from Lang's office.

"Happy hunting, Bard!" Lang called after him.

"Now," he muttered to himself. "Let's see what else could go wrong with this new code."

* * *

A/N:

_Hey guys!_

_Sooraya is, of course, Dust from the new New Mutants (now New X-Men I think) – I've always liked her – it's refreshing to see a strong female character, especially a Muslim character that isn't used as a villain. And yes, this Alex is the Alex y'all are thinking of. ;)_

_Next chap will be out in a week or two, plenty more ROMY (of course) and we'll see a bit of what else happened over the summer, via a few flashbacks throughout the chap. Right now we're just finishing up the summer, but soon the school will start up again, and things will pick up pace._

_Thanks for all the great reviews for X3 you guys are great, and I hope you'll like this story just as much if not more than the first. See you next week!_


	2. Chapter 2: Rescue

_**Disclaimer: X-men is owned by Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway ;)**_

_A/N: Here's the next chapter, thanks for all the reviews!_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Rescue**

* * *

Remy sipped slowly at the hot coffee he had just poured, trying to knock the sleepiness from his head as he walked over to one of the tables in the hotel breakfast area.

He sat down in front of his plate, complete with bacon and a warm bagel, and inclined his head toward the woman across the table. "Carol." He greeted, yawning slightly. "Rogue restin'?"

Carol nodded, she was now very used to his ability to tell between which of the two of them was in control of Rogue's body, by merely a glance. "I think you're a bad influence on her, with this aversion to waking up before nine in the morning," she said with a wink.

Remy smiled slightly, glancing over to the countertop on which the complimentary breakfast was set up, where Sarah was loading up her plate with pancakes. She was not looking nearly as tired as the rest of the group that had taken open tables scattered around the room.

"Maybe, but I think it's jus' all de work," he said. "Still more to do today, hope a few hours of sleep will keep ev'ryone goin'."

Carol took a sip of orange juice. "Yeah. I think we got to the worst of it yesterday, though."

Sarah joined them moments later, and both he and Carol looked amusedly at her towering pile of pancakes – soaked in maple syrup.

"Sure you got enough dere, _petit_?" Remy asked.

Sarah grinned, and dug into the pile with her fork. "Yep!" She said, shoving a forkful in her mouth.

"How're you feeling, Sarah? You look full of energy this morning." Carol said.

Sarah's eyes snapped up to her, and she looked at her for a moment, calculatingly. "Carol?" She asked rhetorically, although she received a nod from Carol. "I'm okay. I slept last night in the van when you guys were workin' really late. It's been kinda boring. I wish I had some sort of powers that could help," she said, the tone of her voice filled with disappointment.

"Hey, you've been helpin' a lot, _petite_." Remy said gently. "Jus' cuz you ain' been usin' your powers to do it doesn' mean you haven' been helpin'. You've been talkin' to all de kids, keepin' dem calm for us until de paramedics can take a look at dem, or until we find de rest of their families."

Carol smiled at her. "Not everything's about how much you can use your powers, hun. I used to have all the powers Rogue has now, but my dad used a collar to shut them down. I could have been out there helping people, doing things with my powers, but my dad made it so that I couldn't. That doesn't mean I couldn't still help people out – I loved volunteering in soup kitchens. I could feed people, even if I couldn't stop bullets for them."

Sarah's eyebrows furrowed as she continued to eat, and then she finally looked up. "Guess you're right. Just sometimes I feel like I'm not doing anything, while all you guys are."

Remy reached over and ruffled her hair up, earning him an indignant look. "I know, _petite_, jus' remember what I said, when you feel like that."

Lorna, who'd been sitting at a table with Annie and Carter, had stood up and made her way over to their table. "Morning," she greeted them. "Ready for another fun day of clearing out debris?"

Remy rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Once we're done eatin' we'll head out. You get a hold of Warren?"

Lorna shook her head. "Nope, just that short talk yesterday, and I'm not even sure how much of it he caught. I talked to one of the recovery workers a little while ago, but he couldn't say when they'd be able to get coverage back up, and the stuff they _do_ have is getting overwhelmed by everyone calling into and out of the area. Most of the land lines are down too."

Remy nodded slightly. "Well, not much we can do 'bout that other den help out here, an' den head back to de mansion."

Lorna nodded. "I know." She smiled then. "I was watching the news before you guys came down for breakfast – we're on it. They had a few clips of us working on that one office building, and mentioned what we said in the interview. There's a few other individual mutants out and helping, I guess, but we were the talk of the morning news show on the channel that was on."

"Well, I'm sure Warren'll be happy," Remy said, looking knowingly at Lorna, who blushed slightly.

"Hey, don't start," she said, rolling her eyes, "or I'll make it my mission to tease the two of you the rest of the summer," she said, inclining her head at Remy and Carol/Rogue.

"Anyway," she continued, "most of us are done and headed up to get ready. When you head up, can you make sure the Cuckoos come up when you do?" Lorna asked.

Lorna had, over the course of the summer given the Mindee and her sisters that nickname. The girls, after watching _Village of the Damned_ with Lorna, rather enjoyed the nickname and thought it suited the trio, and took to using it themselves.

Remy nodded. "_Oui, _I'll get dem going when we're done," he said, eyeing the speed that Sarah was eating her pancakes and estimating it wouldn't be very long before they would go to get ready for the day themselves.

* * *

Rogue blinked rapidly as she stretched, trying to clear wake herself up all the way. She glanced around, and realize she was in her mindscape, and remembered giving control over to Carol before slipping into a deep sleep after well over 18 hours straight of rescue efforts.

She decided to give Carol more time in her body – she knew the girl needed it, needed time out of her mind to keep from getting restless. Rogue tried to do it as often as possible for her: although Carol had let herself be absorbed purposefully, Rogue still felt stabs of guilt when she was reminded that Carol would be forever trapped in her mind. She didn't know how she would have been able to handle that if it had happened to her.

Rogue shook her head and then glanced around the forest that made up her mindscape. The trees were well on their way to recovering from the blasting that Jean's dark psyche had done months before, and the bramble-pile of psyches – although grown since placed in a clearing – was still well maintained by Carol and herself.

She'd already felt the improvements over the summer. While she hadn't been able to stop her pull any longer than the minute or so she had when she'd started working with Remy, she had been able to slow down the _rate_ of absorption, making it possible for just over two minutes of contact before she'd drained him enough to make him pull back.

And with his work on pulling his energy back through their lips that he'd shown her months before, they'd been able to be more intimate than she'd ever dreamed since the day her powers had emerged. Sure, it was basically just passionate kissing and little more, but it was something she'd never have believed would be possible before he'd entered her life.

Until she gained control, she knew it wouldn't be more than that, but that didn't keep the thought of more than that from her dreams, or times when her imagination ran wild…..

She blushed slightly. These days those dreams were getting even more vivid, she thought to herself, and it was becoming a bit frustrating. She strolled slowly through the forest of her mind, her hands running absently along the trees as she thought.

She hissed out a curse when pain stabbed through her hand. She looked down and frowned when she saw a long, thorny vine beginning to grow up one of the trunks. She rubbed her finger across the scratch one of the thorns had caused on the back of her hand. The vine itself was the same color as the trunk, and blended in rather well. Had she not been touching the trunks, she'd likely never have noticed it.

She let her eyes run across the trunks nearby, making sure none of them had similar growths, and then she stooped down, grasping the vine near the base where there were few thorns. Every once in a while she or Lorna would catch these trying to grow – small bits of psyches or memories from people she'd absorbed. Often-times new arrivals, but occasionally hardy survivors of the Phoenix's firestorm across the mindscape.

She bit back a cry as a thorn she'd not seen pierced the palm of her hand, and she tightened her grip, yanking the vine out by the roots to take over to the mound of psyches and memories.

As the thorn entered the skin of her palm, she felt herself fall into the fragment: it was definitely a memory, not a psyche. She found herself in someone's body, in a room – _a bar?_ - With cigarette smoke hanging in the air in front of her.

When she looked down, she recognized the hands of the person – Remy. They were clenched into near-fists, wrinkling a large picture that they tightly gripped. The vision focused enough for her to see what the picture showed: a beautiful blond-haired woman wearing absolutely nothing, in a rather compromising position with a handsome, equally naked man.

As the memory came fully into focus she felt rage and betrayal and sadness wash over her in an overwhelming wave. Rogue gasped, and let go of the vine, breaking out of the memory. She breathed heavily, trying to bring herself back to reality, and remind herself it wasn't her memory.

She carefully picked up the vine – not wanting to experience it again – and carried it over to throw it with the others while she thought about what she'd seen, and more importantly what she'd felt.

She'd had an idea of how he'd felt after finding out about the events in the pictures, but now she'd felt it herself.

Her hands trembled slightly. She knew exactly who the girl in the picture was, as she'd been rather surprised to find out earlier in the summer. Her eyes closed as she recalled that evening.

* * *

_Rogue looked up from her laptop, which rested in front of her on the bed, when Remy knocked softly and pushed the slightly-open door inward, entering the room. She smiled. "Hey, Sugah."_

_A small smile flickered across his face. "Chére. Can we talk?"_

_Rogue nodded, and closed the screen on her laptop before moving it to her right side, and then she patted the bed next to her, and Remy slowly moved over and sank down onto the mattress._

"_Ah was hopin' you would, Remy. Ah was startin' to think Ah'd have to tie yah down an' drag it outta yah," she said, smiling as she poked his arm. _

_She had noticed that he had been rather out of it for most of the day – every time she saw him he seemed to be distracted by something, much like he'd been after the Sabretooth simulation in the Danger Room. Even now, his face was tense, expression guarded – even when she'd phrased her comment to leave it wide open for him to tease her about it._

"_Yah havin' nightmares 'bout the Purifiers again?" She asked, carefully watching his reaction._

_Remy shook his head. "Non, dreams aren' too bad after we talked," he said. _

_A week after they'd rescued him from the Purifier base, he'd been having trouble sleeping every night without waking up from nightmares about his time there – the worst were when he was a viewer, and not a participant, of the dream, forced to watch Rogue tortured in his place. He'd finally taken Xavier's advice and talked about his time there with Rogue, and that had helped greatly with the dreams._

"_Then what is it? Yah've barely said a word all day. Sarah's worried about yah, an' so am Ah."_

_Remy looked over to her, and she saw the same tortured look in his eyes she'd seen several times before: when he'd told her about the tunnels, and later about Genevieve and Sabretooth, and recently the horrors he'd experienced in captivity with Maldrone._

_She reached out and grasped his free hand firmly in her own. "No secrets."_

_Remy nodded. "I know, Rogue," he said and then sighed. "Sorry I been so out of it. It's jus'….. t'day woulda been my fourth anniversary with….." He stopped for a moment._

_She squeezed his hand, and his other reached up and rubbed at his forehead. "Chére, dis is 'bout de only big thing I ain' told you yet, 'bout my past. Everythin' else is cake compared to dis… Four years ago, 'bout dis time of de day, I woulda been gettin' married."_

_Rogue's jaw dropped, and she looked at him incredulously. "Married? Yah…You're married?"_

_His empathy picked up the spike of tense jealousy that coursed through her as she asked that, and he shook his head quickly. "_Non_, _non, _not anymore, Chére. Jus'… let me tell you 'bout it…. It's hard for me."_

_Rogue's eyes widened in understanding. "Th'girl that broke y'heart…. It was her?"_

_Remy nodded. "Her name was Belladonna Boudreaux."_

"_Pretty name," Rogue said softly._

_Remy grimaced. "Yeah. Also another name for nightshade – pretty flowers an' berries, but deadly an' poisonous. Dat's what it always was like wit' her."_

"_She _was_ beautiful, an' I think I fell in love wit' her de moment I saw her. We were jus' kids den, didn' really know what dat was. Bella was de daughter of Marius Boudreaux, de head of de Assassins' Guild. Dere's a bunch of criminal guilds in N'awlins – Forgers' Guild, Smugglers' Guild, dat sort of thing – de politics of it all is really twisted an' complicated. The N'awlins Guilds are some of de oldest criminal organizations in de country – dey were born right along wit' de city in de 1700s."_

"_But de two biggest are de Assassins' Guild an' de Thieves' Guild. Dere's always been fightin' between the two, backstabbing, even all out wars. Marius an' my _pére –_ de heads of both guilds – saw a chance at uniting de two, stoppin' all de fighting: Bella an' me gettin' married." Remy shrugged. "I certainly wasn' gonna complain."_

_"So we got married, at St. Joseph's – biggest Catholic Church in N'awlins. It was a great ceremony, an' it was de same church my _pére_ got married at, an' his _pére_ got married at. All our friends were dere, though dat pretty much meant de Assassins' Guild an' de Thieves' Guild: we didn' associate much wit' people outside de Guilds."_

_Remy shook his head. "Den Julien had to show up. Julien was Bella's brother. He'd always hated my guts – didn' even come to de ceremony or de reception, didn' want to see his sister marry me. He showed up de next day – I was at a meetin' with Marius an' some of de other Assassins, tryin' to hammer out de details of de peace treaty dat was put in place wit' de marriage."_

_Remy's free hand tightened into a fist, and the other gripped hers tighter. "He challenged me to a 'Duel'. It was an old tradition, from back when de guilds started out, when N'awlins was founded. Anyone could challenge another person to a Duel of Honor, an' they'd have to accept, or be expelled in disgrace. He challenged dat since I wasn' Jean Luc's blood, I didn' have de right to marry Bella. De fights go on 'till one can't stand, an' den de winner gets his way."_

_Remy sighed. "Julien was a maniac – I know he was tryin' to kill me. He didn' care if it got him expelled, 'long as I was gone. I defended m'self, held my own, but de Assassins got some damn good trainin'. Finally I had t'use my powers, blow up a chair between us, t'keep him back. He'd pulled a knife, an' I had nothin', so I set it to blow…."_

_Remy looked over to her, grasping her hand even more tightly. "Didn' mean to kill him. It was a freak accident – one of de legs of de chair splintered an' went through his chest." Remy shook his head. "I was pretty shaken up over it – first time I'd killed someone, at least that close – there was the theater, but I never saw any of the people dat died dere."_

_He smiled grimly. "Of course, Julien got his way. Killin' in a Duel of Honor is forbidden, an' grounds for expulsion – grounds for war if it was between two Guilds. Marius tol' me dat if I left an' never came back, he'd let de Peace Accord stand. I'm never allowed back in N'awlins."_

_Rogue leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Oh, Remy. But… that wasn' Bella's fault, it was her brother's…"_

_Remy smiled slightly and placed a finger to her lips. "I'm gettin' dere. So, I was given de rest of de day to say my goodbyes, pack my bags, an' leave. I went home first, tol' Jean Luc an' Henri, an' Tante what had happened, dat I was gonna find someplace to live, away from de Guilds. Den I found Bella, an' we said our goodbyes. For de Accord to work she'd have to stay. It was… hard, leavin' her."_

_"Found out later, by chance, dat she was cheatin' on me before de weddin'. Havin' one night stands. An' still doin' it after I left. I… dat hurt so much._

_Rogue smiled sadly. "Ah understand, Sugah. Y'really loved her, didn't yah?"_

_Remy nodded. "Findin' out about it…. Tore out my heart. I threw away my ring. Never been back, never seen her again. My _pére_ took care of de divorce, stood in for me, even though dat ended de Peace Accord."_

_"Thought she was de one. I gave everythin' to her. Since den, I've never loved someone like dat again." _

"_Until you," Remy said, smiling slightly as he reached up to stroke Rogue's cheek with his fingertips. "Dat's why it took me so long to say it. You reminded me of her, 'specially the way you made me feel. Y'were beautiful, funny, spoke y'mind, just like her, but I realized you don' have dat dark, poisonous side Bella had."_

_He glanced down at where her white-gloved hands were gripping his own hand. "This day still gets t'me though, so dat's why I've been so moody t'day. Sorry, you don' deserve dat."_

_Rogue smiled sweetly and moved closer, wrapping her arms around him. "It's alright, Sugah. We were just worried 'bout yah." She shook her head slightly and chuckled. "So, married. Wasn't expectin' to hear that. So that's your last deep dark secret? Or yah got more?" She asked, kissing his neck softly._

_Remy sighed. "Yeah. Dat's about it. Jus' a messed up life 'till I met you an' Sarah. Sorry I didn' tell you 'bout de whole bein' married thing before….. it's just, a bit to drop on you, an' hard to talk 'bout for me."_

_"Ah understand," Rogue said. "But yah have a new life now. Yah aren't made up of bad things from y'past – you're your own person – the one Ah fell in love with. Yah know it doesn' do yah any good tearin' y'self up over things yah can't change."_

_Remy moved his hands to cup her cheeks. "What would I do without you, Chére?"_

_Rogue smirked. "Yah'd just be mopin' around all the time. Probably climb up on someone's roof an' sit there for awhile." She said, her eyes twinkling. "But Ah think th' far more important question, Mr. LeBeau, is: now that yah've got me, what're yah gonna do with me?"_

_Remy chuckled, and pulled her closer, his lips hovering over hers. "You're right, Chére. Dat's certainly de best question. Guess I'll jus' have to show you," he said, and slowly pressed her down on her back as he slid a hand into her hair and kissed her._

* * *

Now, feeling what he'd felt, it was a wonder he'd ever trusted someone else, but she wasn't going to complain that he'd chosen her. She moved away from the pile of psyches and memories, and spent another few minutes searching to make sure there weren't any more hidden ones.

She stopped as she felt Carol connect with her subconscious again, and appear in front of her.

"Hey," Carol said with a smile, "Thought I felt you thinking up a storm in here."

Her expression changed to one of concern when she saw Rogue's bloody palm. "You alright?

"Hm?" Rogue said. "Oh, this. Yeah, Ah'm fine, just found a memory tryin' to grow, and it put up a bit of a fight when Ah yanked it up."

Carol nodded. "Well, we're in the van and we just got to the rescue center, and I figured I'd let you take over – you get to do all the hard work," she said grinning.

Rogue smiled slightly. "Yah sure yah don' wanna keep goin'?"

Carol nodded again. "Yeah. Besides, Remy's gettin' a little grumpy – I think he misses his Roguey." She said with a wink.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Not you too! Bad enough with Remy an' Lorna with their nicknamin' everyone, Ah don' need yah startin' too."

Carol pouted slightly. "Oh, fine."

"Carol…." Rogue started, reaching forward to grasp her friend's hand. "Ah was thinkin' before… sometimes Ah forget how much yah need to get outta here. If you're ever feelin' cooped up, jus' ask, an' Ah'll let yah take over like this. It doesn' just have to be when Ah'm exhausted."

Carol smiled, and leaned forward, pulling Rogue into a hug. "Thanks – I'll remember to do that. You're…. great. I'm glad it's your head I ended up in. See you for another session when you're done with the cleanup?"

Rogue felt her eyes mist over slightly, and she slowly stepped back and nodded. "Sure – Ah'll see yah then." She said, and began to concentrate on the link to her conscious mind.

Moments later she found herself back in her body, sitting in the front passenger seat of the van, with Remy opening her door for her. The other doors were already opened and Sarah and the others already mostly out of the van.

She smiled at Remy and stepped out. She tugged on the front of his shirt, pulling him into a warm kiss.

"Mm, Carol, you shouldn' be doin' dat – y'might get Rogue jealous if y'keep kissin' me like that," he said with a grin twitching at the corner of his lips.

Rogue swatted him on the arm. "Very funny, swamp rat."

"You have a good sleep, _Chére_?" Remy asked, turning as he slid his arm around her shoulders to pull her close as they followed the others toward the large series of tents set up in an open park.

"Yeah. Yah ready for another day of hard work?"

Remy nodded as they neared the main tent. The tents had been set up by the various emergency responders as a sort of command post, and they were surrounded by numerous ambulances, fire trucks, and smaller vehicles belonging to the local police and fire departments.

They entered through one flap of the main tent, and saw a group of people clustered around a long collapsible table, looking at a map that had been laid out on top of it.

A short, slightly balding man glanced over to them, and then quickly finished speaking to the woman he was discussing something with before he straightened up and walked toward them with a relieved smile.

"David," Remy greeted with a nod.

"Mister Lord," David said, addressing Remy. "I'm glad to see you and your people. Things have gone pretty slow around here without you."

Much of the morning the previous day had consisted of them trying to find a place to volunteer. Many of the places they'd stopped at had given them cold shoulders, the supervisors telling them they had no need for mutant assistance and in once case even threatening to arrest them for interfering with rescue efforts if they didn't leave. Even in such a dire situation, they were letting their prejudices color their decisions.

Just as they were beginning to give up the whole idea, they'd met David Henry. He was the fire chief for his district, and in charge of the rescue efforts there. He'd been more than happy to get their help.

There had been a bit of grumbling amongst some of the men at first about working with mutants, but that had ceased very quickly when they saw what Remy and the others could do. They'd sped up the rescue efforts considerably, especially with the triplets' telepathic powers giving them an excellent idea of what buildings to work on, and which ones didn't have living people and could be put off until after everyone was rescued.

"I really need your help on this apartment complex, he said, tapping a small area on the map. "These were a set of apartments built in the '60s and refurbished. They weren't built for the kind of winds and rain-loads we had during the storm, and they've all mostly collapsed."

He gestured toward the open tent flap on the side opposite the side they'd entered, and they could see several piles of rubble being swarmed by rescue workers. "The dogs are alerting to living people down in there, but these things were three stories tall. We're thinking people tried to ride out the storm in the basements. But," he said, tapping an area of the map showing a large subdivision, "we're getting reports of people trapped all around here, and I need to respond to them."

"These people in the apartments are under two floors of rubble, and it's going to take far too long to dig them out ourselves. If you guys could take over here while we go to these houses, you'd be saving us at least a day in rescue efforts, and I think you could dig them out much faster than we could." He said, nodding toward Rogue and Lorna, who'd been the main debris movers of the group yesterday.

"Alright," Remy said. "We'll get to it then. Could you leave a few people to help us out with injured, so Annie's got some help?"

David nodded. "Absolutely. I'll leave a team of paramedics here. Thank you for your help, all of you. If you hadn't come along," he said, looking out over the damaged buildings of the surrounding city. "I think it wouldn't be until tomorrow that we'd even be starting on this area. You've helped save so many lives."

Remy smiled, and shook David's hand. "No problem. It's what we do."

David smiled. "Well, you've definitely changed a few of my men's opinions on mutants – I hope you can change others too. That reminds me – some of the people you rescued wanted to get into contact with you and thank you personally once we're done picking up the pieces here," he said gesturing out the open tent flap. "So my supervisors were wondering if you'd be willing to give us an address, or phone number, some way for them to give the people something to contact you with….."

Lorna frowned for a moment, and then moved forward to grab a small note pad off the table where the maps sat. She scribbled down an address, and then handed the pad to him. "This is the address of our office. We're just starting out, and haven't really done much yet. We're going public in a few days – we had already planned a press conference before this storm hit. Just tell your supervisors to give us a few days to get fully up and running at the offices, and get our announcement out there."

David nodded, smiling warmly. "Sure." Then he sighed slightly. "I'll start rounding everyone up and we'll head out to that subdivision and start working. If you guys finish before I get back to the post here, just head over and find me – I'm sure we'll have plenty more work for you." He said, before turning and moving toward several of his aides, issuing instructions to them, and they scurried off toward the group working on the apartment building.

"Well," Remy said turning to the others. "You ready?"

Mindee spoke up. "The dogs are right – we can sense some people in the rubble. It's dark and they're scared. There's…. ten – no, eleven – in different buildings. One…. We have to start in the building closest to us," she said gesturing toward the one that had had the most workers around it. "There's a man, we almost didn't sense him at first, he's very weak, nearly dead."

"Alrigh' then, let's get started," Rogue said, leading the group toward the first building.

* * *

Logan rolled his head around until he got a satisfying pop as he stood up, getting out of the passenger seat of the car. The movement helped ease the soreness in his neck from the ride.

The driver got out and stretched as well, shutting the door of the beat-up sedan behind him. The sedan itself blended in well with the somewhat run-down neighborhood they'd parked in.

"Not that I'm complaining about getting out of the mansion for a bit, but mind tellin' me what the hell we're doin' in Memphis?" Logan asked.

"It's a boys' night out, Logan," Jamie Madrox said with his ever-present grin, "we're going to a bar."

"An' we couldn' do that in New York?" Logan asked incredulously.

"Well, first off, we would have never had that wonderful car ride from the safehouse, and you wouldn't have been able to complain about my driving if we'd stayed in." Jamie said.

Logan rolled his eyes. While X-Force had gone through no major missions since Remy's rescue, Fury had still dragged them in at least every other weekend for training together, and everyone had gotten to know one another much better. He was now quite used to Jamie's sarcasm and sense of humor.

"And anyway," Jamie continued. "this is a special bar. We're meeting someone here. Me, actually."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "You serious?"

Jamie nodded. "I can make dupes of myself that are completely autonomous, and don't need to remain close to me. It takes a lot of energy, but once I make 'em, they can head off into the world and work on their own. I had one with Magneto, before Alcatraz. I have one over in Moscow – he's a Russian mobster, and another who's in San Francisco training to become an expert in martial arts. I even have one off studying to be a pastor. And when I touch them, they transfer everything they've learned back to me. Sort of a memory dump. Takes a while to process everything, but it lets me learn things and do things I'd never be able to do just by myself," he said as they walked down the road toward the bar.

"This one is infiltrating the local Church of Humanity, trying to get something we can use, any sort of intel that could be useful to us. He sent me the signal for us to meet – a silent call using a disposable cell phone."

"So why'd you drag me along?"

"Well," Jamie said, "Wouldn't be very good for his cover to be seen meeting with mutants. With Louisiana and his girl out on vacation in D.C., that leaves you. None of the others can easily pass as human, other than you. And besides, if this is something hot, we might need to act right away on it so I wanted some backup." He said as they neared the bar.

"This is the place?" Logan asked skeptically, looking up at the half-burned out sign of the 'Laughing Lizard Lounge'. "Guess you can't just download the info from a distance?"

Jamie nodded. "Right – only physical contact. Can sometimes be a pain, but what can you do?" He said as they entered the bar. "Let's go, he's in the back," Logan heard him say – likely only his enhanced hearing allowing him to hear Jamie over the sudden increase of noise from the music and the loud conversations in the crowded bar.

They moved toward the back of the bar, where a series of dimly lit booths had been set up against the back wall, and found the dupe they were looking for in one of the corner booths.

Logan was impressed at the difference between the two. The man had dyed his hair blond, and had a similarly colored goatee, and much more of a tan than Jamie. Anyone who didn't know who they were looking at wouldn't even notice a similarity between the two men. And even if someone was very observant they'd most likely come to the conclusion that they were distantly related, perhaps cousins.

The dupe nodded to them as they slid into the booth across from him. "Good to see you. Who's your sidekick here?" He asked, looking toward Logan.

"Name's Logan," Jamie answered. "Got some new members of the team over the summer, and he's one of them. So, James, I got your message."

'James' nodded, and lowered his voice, looking around the bar to make sure no one was paying attention to their table. He leaned forward, causing them to automatically do the same.

"I'm in," James said. "All the way in, not just in the front that they use the Church for. I've gained the trust of several of the elders, and they've started letting me in on the _real _meetings."

"I can't say too much and I can't stay long – walls have ears and all that jazz. I'll dump it all to you before I leave. They're associated with Friends of Humanity, I think we already knew that, but they've had me go to a few FOH meetings already. And they're connected to the Purifiers. Nothing hard on that one, but they've talked about it."

"There something big going down in about two weeks. They're not saying anything about what it is yet, but I got a general location. It sounds like the Purifiers might be involved with it, so it can't be good." James said, and then lowered his head slightly when he saw someone out of the corner of his eye.

"Damn," he muttered. "That's someone from the Church – I better leave. I'll try to contact again if I learn anything more." He said, and tapped his hand against Jamie's before standing up and carefully weaving through the crowd to avoid being glimpsed by the person he'd seen.

Jamie stiffened at the contact, sitting almost ramrod straight up in his seat. His eyes were closed, and Logan could see his eyelids moving rapidly, looking similar to someone who was dreaming.

He finally relaxed, and slowly opened his eyes. "It's a bit to process," he said when he saw Logan's questioning look. "I've got the basics right now, but I'll need a full night's sleep to assimilate it all and get everything. The thing he was talking about is happening in somewhere in Houston, in about two weeks. I'm sure we can narrow it down back at the 'Carrier with our intel on all these groups, figure out where they're meeting."

"I'm gettin' sick of playin' catch-up to these pricks," Logan muttered. "We've gotta find something on Creed to take him out of this. The Dems seem to have picked the worst election possible to have this infighting, and I get th'feelin' that if we don't knock out Creed, we're going to have him as President in a few months.

Jamie nodded. "Well, I'm sure we'll get something. Fury's got everyone on the 'Carrier workin' on it, heard it's top priority for all agents. 'Sides, we can always sic Dom on him before the election. Bet she could blow his brains out from a mile away with that rifle of hers." He said, grinning slightly.

Logan made a noncommittal noise – he knew Jamie was sweet on Dom, even if she didn't return the favor. Almost every conversation they'd had inevitably ended up bringing her into it in some way.

Logan stood up from the booth, and looked expectantly at Jamie. "Well, we met him. Now what?"

Jamie smiled and got up as well, moving toward the bar. "Well, we can have that boys' night out. Might as well get some drinks while we're here."

"Y'know, maybe you aren't so bad, kid." Logan said, following him through the crowd.

* * *

Graydon Creed took a sip of the glass of Riesling his wife had handed him as they sat down together in the couch of their small West Virginia house.

It had been over half a year since they'd been back here together – campaigning to become the President while also still serving in the Senate and being there for at least the important votes left little time to even visit their home.

He had hoped there would be plenty of time in the summer to take a few breaks, but until now the summer had anything but calm.

The fiasco with Maldrone – being dubbed "AssistantGate" much to Creed's annoyance at the overuse of that meme – had hurt him, badly. The day after the surprise interview where he found out about Ron's capture and arrest charges, his numbers in the polls dropped by twenty points.

The entire summer had been spent trying to re-image himself, distance himself from Ron and his actions. It had been difficult, especially with the constant press coverage of the story. But eventually, with a constant barrage of town hall meetings and small rallies in which he focused on issues like the economy and foreign policy, he had managed to pull off the image of a man hounded by a relentless press that sought his downfall, and managed to turn that into sympathy, along with the '_I really thought I knew the man, and it feels like I've been betrayed now_' image with respect to Ron.

Just a few days ago, his numbers were back up to where they were before Ron had been arrested. There was a slight lull, and he and Mikaela had decided to take advantage of that, taking a long weekend by themselves at their home. He knew that soon enough he'd be struggling once again, especially in a few weeks when the first court hearings would be held to determine how Ron's trial would proceed – followed, of course, by jury selection and the trial itself.

His improved numbers weren't entirely due to his campaigns work to repair his image. The Democrats were currently in what amounted to an in-party political civil war. The last few primaries had seen some exceedingly vicious attack ads between them, and now neither of the leading two candidates had received enough delegates during the primaries to secure the nomination.

With the Democratic National Convention rapidly approaching at the end of August, things had been leading to the back-room give-and-take of a brokered convention. They had to decide which of the two would be the candidate before the Convention, and then the other would give his votes in return for an important position – likely Vice President, or a seat on the Supreme Court when an opening was available.

In addition to that, both were trying to woo the third candidate who had received far fewer delegates, but just enough to secure the victory for either of the two. If they got her endorsement, they would no longer need to barter with their rival, having enough to get the nomination.

While Ron's arrest had caused a media flurry, by the end of the primaries and the approach now of the Convention, the media had begun to focus most of their time on the conflict between the Democrats.

Graydon took another sip of wine as his wife set her glass down to pick up the remote control and turn on the television. The first thing that flashed on the screen was a person Creed was growing to dislike. It was a news story on a Greg Johnson rally for his Senatorial election.

Johnson was a Senator from Colorado, and Creed was both puzzled and relieved at the fact that Johnson had decided not to run for the Democratic nomination. The man was very well spoken, and charismatic, and had a growing base of supporters that were convinced by his positions on improving mutant-human relations and preventing laws that might discriminate against mutants. And some of his views on other issues appealed to a large portion of the Independent voting bloc.

He knew, had Johnson run for the nomination there would currently be no fight in the party, and he would have posed a very serious threat to him. Likely even won the upcoming election. Creed had no doubt in his mind, though, that Johnson would be, barring any sort of scandals, running for next presidential election.

Mikaela switched channels as he began to praise the mutant rescue effort in D.C..

"That man is going to be dangerous to us. Even if he's just in the Senate – he knows how to get people to listen." Creed growled.

Mikaela leaned to the side, resting her head on Graydon's shoulder. "I know. Why don't you just get Eli to handle it? Didn't you say he had certain…. projects…. going on that he uses to take care of getting rid of people like Johnson?"

Creed stared down into his wine glass, and slowly began to nod. "Yes, that's a good idea. If we eliminate him now, there will be enough time for mourning, and for them to replace Johnson with a much weaker candidate that might get beaten in November…." Creed kissed his wife's hand. "I'll get him on it."

Mikaela smiled, and continued to flip through the channels, briefly passing another news station discussing the recent victory for Proposition X supporters. Yesterday they had officially submitted the signatures to their petition, and Proposition X, which would if passed would set up Texas as the first state to make genetic counseling mandatory and give parents the chance to Cure their children, had been placed on the November ballot.

It had hit a slight bump with the announcement that the Cure wasn't permanent, but Humanity Now, the Texas based human organization, simply adjusted the message, comparing it to prescription drugs that some children had to take as they grew up, simply doses every once in a while to keep their mutation in check.

Creed frowned, and he heard his wife sigh. "Now you're thinking about this too, aren't you?"

Creed smiled slightly. "I'm sorry, this is supposed to be our break, but… this is the worst timing we could have come up with to get this pushed through. The announcement itself is going to be dwarfed by this hurricane, and anything that does get heard, they're going to play that against these damn mutant 'humanitarians' that showed up out of the blue, and make the Proposition look bad." He said, frustrated.

"I know, honey, but we didn't have a choice. Yesterday was the deadline and it had to be submitted by then. We _did_ try to hold it off, milk as much news out of it as we could to get more support for it. There was no way we could have predicted that storm would change course and hit D.C. and do so much damage, or that these freaks would try to help out."

He rubbed his forehead. "I know. There's nothing that can be done. We'll pull through this just like we pulled through the last few months."

"I'm glad you agree," she said, giving him a stern look. "Now, that's enough politics – remember we came here for the weekend to get away from all of this crap. No more work-talk the rest of the weekend."

He smiled slightly. "Sorry, honey. You're right, we agreed no work. Let's keep the TV off unless we're watching a movie, okay? Less chance of being tempted."

"You have a deal, love." She said, kissing his neck softly. "Now, let's actually relax, and have fun. God knows we haven't been able to for months!"

Creed laughed at her eagerness, and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer, shoving his nagging thoughts about work to the back of his mind, and focused on his wife.

* * *

"Get out of my bar, mutie! I don't want to see you in here again. All you people do is bring trouble to this place – deal with your little spats somewhere where I won't have to pay for the property damage." The burly bartender said, shoving the young, blond-haired woman out into the street before turning back and walking back into his bar.

The girl tripped as she was shoved and managed to barely catch herself with her hands as she sprawled out on her stomach, her face scraping the cement sidewalk as she did so.

She pushed herself up from the ground, already sweating in the warm Miami night air, and then froze when she saw the four men from the bar exit and begin to move toward her.

"Not so fast, you little freak. Larry back there is a softy, an' he just kicks your kind out. We're not so nice, and you need a lesson, so you learn to never come back here again," the largest of the men said, pulling out a large pocket-knife and flicking it open as the others surrounded her, caging her in.

"Please," she pleaded quietly, not begging the men, but rather trying to get her powers to respond to her wishes. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to draw them out, although the situation wasn't very conducive to her ability to concentrate – she usually did this in her apartment, alone by herself.

Just as she started to feel the tingle of the powers, she heard a meaty crunch, followed by the sound of a body dropping to the floor. She heard two more seconds later, and she opened her eyes to see the fourth. An object blurred through the air slamming into the last man's head, dropping him instantly. The next second the object dropped, clattering to the ground, and she saw that it was a metal baseball bat.

She heard footsteps to her left and turned to see a well-dressed man with long grey-white hair step into the light of the street-lamp. His hair seemed quite at odds with his youthful face, but in a way it seemed to fit him – she wasn't sure how exactly, but it did.

He smiled at her warmly, and his manner immediately brought forth a feeling of relaxed trust and contentedness. "Are you alright?" He asked softly as he approached her. "I hope I got to these brutes before they hurt you."

Her eyes widened, and flickered to the bat and then back to his face. "That was you? H-how?"

He nodded. "You aren't the only one with gifts, I'm sure you know that. I'm a mutant, just like you. My name is Joseph."

She stuck out her hand to shake his. "Thank you for helping me, Joseph. I-I'm-."

He grinned. "Yes, I know who you are. Sarah Ryall."

"I – don't use that name anymore. It's just Scanner. But…. How do you know that name?" She asked, taking a hesitant step back, her eyes skimming over him, wondering if they'd met and she just didn't recognize him.

"I know your name because I've been looking for you. You're quite a difficult woman to find, Sar – sorry, Scanner."

She took another step back, now feeling uneasy. "Why are you looking for me?"

"I need your help. And I think you could use mine. I own an island in the Caribbean – more than one, actually – a place called Genosha. I'm building a refuge there, a safe place for mutants to come and live in peace. I have a few mutants helping me put the finishing touches on it, but now I need to get people to come to it."

"So… you're inviting me to live there?"

Joseph chuckled and shook his head. "No, you're already invited – all mutants are. What I'm here for is to get your help publicizing Genosha, letting people know about it, letting mutants know where they can go to be safe."

Her eyebrow rose skeptically. "You want me to be your PR agent?"

"Not exactly. I know you have a certain talent in…. entering computer systems… that has frustrated many a FBI agent from what I hear. I need your skill to do the same for me."

She paled slightly – very few people knew about that. Her ability to transform into a pure energy form allowed her to travel almost instantaneously to any point on the earth, but that same form allowed her to enter systems that functioned using the same energy. Like computer networks. She had often challenged herself by pitting herself against the FBI secured computer systems – once she'd even basically hacked her way through the NSA's mainframe. And since she didn't use a computer that the hack could be traced to, she'd never been caught.

"I'm…. are you blackmailing me?"

She watched his eyes widen in genuine surprise.

"No! No, I'm not blackmailing you. I won't force you to do anything, and if you say no, I will leave you alone. I just need your help – the kind of assistance that you alone can give me."

He raised a hand as she started to speak. "Please, hear me out. You're unique, just like each and every mutant on this planet. Your power can allow me to spread the word about Genosha. People like you and I are sick and tired of living like this. Living in countries where we're treated like second-class citizens, where our rights are stripped from us, where we spend each and every day listening to bigoted insults hurled at us by ignorant brutes," he said, "all because one of our genes is a little different."

"I've built a place – an island, a paradise, where mutants can come and seek shelter from the cruel world. A sanctuary for people who are tired of living in this manner. A place where things like this," he said gesturing toward the men he'd knocked out, "never occur, and are nothing more than a bad memory of what life was like before they'd come."

"Please – I don't ask that you agree with me now. Just come with me to Genosha, see for yourself what I've built, and _then_ decide if you want to help me, and help your fellow mutants."

Scanner bit her lip slightly. "I…" She heard one of the men begin to stir, and she thought about her apartment, the tiny apartment owned by the landlord that only tolerated a mutant living there because she needed the money, who constantly insulted mutants when she knew Sarah was nearby. She thought of the jobs she'd lost, and experiences like this with the men in the bar.

And then she nodded. "Alright, I'll go with you, and decide after I see this place of yours. But it better be good."

Joseph smiled and offered her his arm. "I think you'll be quite pleasantly surprised."

* * *

Sooraya closed her eyes as she heard the cries of a mutant in a cell across from hers, as they were dragged off by several Purifier guards. She'd heard them mention 'processing', and she knew that mutant would not be seen again by the prisoners. Four had been taken for processing since she'd been captured, and each time their cell was filled within a few days by a fresh mutant.

She tightened the grip her arms had around her knees, which were pulled up to her chest as she sat on her bed, whispering a soft prayer as footsteps neared her cell, praying that she or Alex would not be taken as well. She let out a soft sigh when the man – one of the regular patrol guards – glanced into the cell and continued on.

She rested her chin against her knees, and wondered how Alex could sleep through all of this. Her gaze traveled over to him, and she almost jumped when she saw his eyes were open.

"Can't sleep?" He asked quietly when he realized she'd noticed him.

She shook her head. "They are processing her, they said. She's gone." She said softly.

"I know," he said.

"How long will it be before it is one of us?" She asked, almost rhetorically.

Alex sat up on his bed, and turned to face her. "I don't know. But… we'll escape, somehow. We'll find a way. Or someone will find us, figure out how we were taken."

She smiled wistfully. "I pray that you are correct, Alex, but I fear that no one will come. We can only count on each other, now. And God."

He nodded, and leaned forward, looking earnestly at her. "Sooraya, they won't take us without a fight. I'll do everything I can to keep us alive and together here until we find a way out."

She smiled, and reached out to pat his hand. "I will do the same."

She sighed and looked out the bars of the cell over to the now-empty cell across from theirs, and reached up absently to touch the nullifying collar on her neck. "Why does such evil exist in the world?" She asked, unsure if she was asking her God, herself, Alex, or all three.

"Without evil, how would we know what good is?" Alex said softly, and she glanced up at him in surprise.

"That…. Does make some sense."

Alex shrugged. "It's something my dad used to say. I don't really know, though. People like these… they live off of our suffering – it's like our pain feeds them. Maybe my dad's right about the reason that evil exists, but I don't know the reason why _people_ can bcomee so twisted and sick."

Sooraya shook her head quietly. "Perhaps someday we'll discover the answer to all this. But we still have to live with this," she said, tugging on her collar.

Alex ran a hand across his face, wincing as he touched his slowly healing cut.

Sooraya eyed him with concern, and moved forward off of her bed, taking his face in her hands. She turned his head so she could look more closely at the cut in the dim light of the cell, and frowned. "It is more… what is the word you used this morning – puffy? I think it is getting more infected."

He grimaced. "Figured it was. I'll just have to keep washing it out more often," he said, "and hope I fight it off, because they don't care about something like this. I'm glad you do," he said smiling slightly.

She moved back, sitting back on her bed, blushing slightly. "You're my friend Alex. The best I've ever had – of course I care about what happens to you, especially if you're hurt. I-I think I will try to go back to sleep," she said, somewhat flustered.

He watched her quickly throw her blanket over herself and turn away from him, and felt like slapping himself on the forehead. After getting to know her he tried his hardest not to make her feel uncomfortable with their situation, but from time to time something came up in a conversation that somehow reminded her of how she'd been taught, and raised, and she'd get flustered like this and close herself off for the rest of the day, only to apologize the next day, and explain why she'd acted in that manner.

It was occasionally about family or religion in general, but most of the time it was about the giant change she'd been thrown into, stuck in a cell with a man without the clothing she was used to wearing.

He stared at her back for several minutes, trying to figure out what it had been this time, and he figured it was likely them talking about their friendship – perhaps the way he'd talked about it himself. From what he could tell, a close friendship with a male that wasn't her father, brother, or husband, was definitely frowned upon where she had lived under the Taliban's rule, and that part of her upbringing likely had something to do with why she'd just closed up once again.

Alex raised a hand, touching his collar much like Sooraya had done minutes before, and he ran his fingers along the underside until he found the small indentation in the metal near what he thought was likely the electronic controls of the device.

He reached down under his mattress for the tiny, sharp sliver of metal he'd surreptitiously taken with him from one of the interrogation rooms after he'd fought and struggled and eventually caused an entire group of guards to come in to subdue him, the ensuing struggle damaging some of the equipment in the room.

Alex brought the sliver of metal up to the indentation, which he had made over the course of the past two weeks, and began lowly scraping at it once more. He hadn't told Sooraya, not wanting to get her hopes up when there was such a large chance of being caught doing it, or of the ever-growing indentation being noticed during one of the 'interrogations'.

But maybe, he thought as he lay back on his bed - his tired fingers scraping at the indentation with the small piece of metal - if luck was on their side he'd manage to get into the inner part of the casing and disable the collar, and lead an escape with Sooraya and the other mutants. It was a long shot, but they both were desperate to get out before they ended up like the mutant across the hall, and he was willing to give anything a try.

* * *

"Are we there yet?" Sarah asked from the back of the van.

Remy glanced across to Rogue and exchanged a grin with her before he looked back at Sarah with the rearview mirror. "Almost, _petite_. Jus' a few more miles – see, we're already at de edge of town," he said, nodding at a sign welcoming them to the city limits of North Salem.

"The vacation was fun, but I think we're all eager to get back home," Annie said softly.

Remy nodded – he had come, rather quickly, to think of the mansion as 'home', and it seemed that others felt the same. In fact, to him it was more of a home than any he'd had for years. The next closest was when he stayed over at Henri's house.

Remy weaved through the streets of town, passing those who seemed more interested in window-shopping-by-car than driving.

Soon enough, the tall gates in front of the driveway of the mansion came into sight, and Remy reached over on the console to tap a button, making them open automatically.

He had barely shifted the van into park in the garage, when the doors in the back swung open, and people began to pile out.

"You girls go in, get supper goin'," Remy said to Sarah and Rogue, passing them the grocery bags they'd picked up on the way back. "I'll take care of our luggage."

Sarah nodded, and grinned up at Rogue. "C'mon, I'll beat ya," she said, grabbing an armful of groceries and dashing off toward the door.

Rogue leaned forward and kissed a chuckling Remy's cheek. "See yah inside, Sugah," she said, grabbing the rest of the grocery bags, and following Sarah into the mansion.

Remy slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, then Rogue's, and then leaned over to grab Sarah's suitcase when his phone began to ring in his pocket. He shifted to the side to let the others grab their bags, and moved the suitcase to the arm that held the duffel bags as he slid his hand into his pocket to fish out his phone.

He thumbed 'talk' button on the screen as he lugged the bags toward the door to the mansion. "H'lo?"

"Remy, how you doin'?" Came Dan's voice over the other end.

"Dan! Been a while, y'ol' dog. What, three months or so? How're things at de shop?"

"Can't complain, my friend. Summer tourists are makin' me a pretty penny. Lookin' for cheap deals, trinkets for their girlfriends or their kids, that sort of thing. How 'bout you, you still at that mansion?" Dan asked.

"Good, glad t'hear dat. I'm doin' good too. Y'know Rogue, de girl y'saw me wit' when I stopped by for de apartment key?" Remy said, climbing the stairs toward the third floor – the elevator liked to cut off calls. "We're datin' – gettin' pretty serious."

Dan chuckled. "That's great, Cajun. You need a good girl in your life. Speakin' of that, how's little Sarah?"

Remy smiled. "She's doin' great. Adjusted pretty well, gettin' past de tunnels an' all dat. She likes de school."

"Well, I'm glad t'hear that. Listen, Cajun, I was wonderin' if you could spare some time tomorrow, come see ol' Dan in the mornin'. I finally found that fella you had me lookin' for."

Remy stopped in his tracks, a slow smile coming over his face. "Really?"

"Really," Dan said. "Still right here in state."

Remy took a deep breath, and nodded to himself. "Alrigh', Dan, dat's great news. I'll be over in de mornin'. Thank you."

"No problem. I also… finally got together that paperwork you wanted. Took a lot of strings to pull that."

"Well, you are de best puppet master when it comes to strings in de government," Remy said with a chuckle. "Glad you got dem."

"Remy, you sure 'bout this? It's an awful lot of responsibility t'be takin' on." Dan asked hesitantly.

Remy sighed. "Yeah, Dan, I'm sure."

"Alright, jus' wanted t'make sure y'were thinkin' this through." Dan said. "I'll have them ready for you. See you tomorrow?

"Seeya, Dan," Remy said, hanging up the phone as he set his duffel bag down on his bed. He put Sarah and Rogue's bags on the ground – he'd take them to their rooms later.

Remy sighed, and sat down on the side of the bed. It was unexpected news, though not unwelcome, he thought to himself as he glanced with a smile at the picture frame resting on the night stand.

It was a print of a picture Lorna had taken of them earlier in the summer. The four of them had gone down to the lake to swim, and Lorna had decided to bring her new camera – a gift from Warren – along with them, and she had snapped the shot for them.

Remy, wearing a pair of swimming trunks, his hair unruly and wet, stood grinning in the center of the picture, his arms around Rogue and Sarah who were on either side of him, their arms around his waist. He chuckled to himself, remembering how Rogue had tossed him into the lake moments after the picture.

He reached out and ran a finger down the glass frame, and sighed once more, before standing up – they'd need his help making the dinner for everyone and he didn't want to meet up with an unhappy Rogue wielding a frying pan.

* * *

**A/N:**_ Hope you like this chap, we learn a bit more of what people have been up to over the summer, including a bit about how Remy really became Remy (Bella's actions being the catalyst). We may very well find out some more in future chapters, but he revealed the most pertinent stuff to Rogue now._

_Thought I'd add in a bit to introduce the "Cuckoos" nickname to Mindee and her sisters, but decided to just go with Cuckoos instead of Stepford Cuckoos, because then that brings in two movies (The Stepford Wives is where "stepford" comes from, and "cuckoos" indeed does come from the film I mentioned – very creepy psychic kids, those Midwich Cuckoos) and it's easier to explain them being nicknamed after just one._

_We'll get to find out just what Remy's up to, as well as see the big reveal on Warren's organization, and plenty more._

_Thanks for all the great reviews last chapter!_


	3. Chapter 3: Surprises

_Disclaimer: X-men is owned by __**Marvel Comics**__ and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway ;)_

_A/N:Hey guys, back with the next chapter. We find out what Remy is up to, see Warren's press conference, and have some nice, fluffy moments amongst our characters. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 3: Surprises**

* * *

Remy leaned back slightly in the uncomfortable metal chair, his fingers tapping absently at the stainless-steel table bolted to the floor in front of him.

They had settled back in to the mansion the previous evening, and he'd told Rogue and Sarah he needed to go see Dan in the city. He didn't tell them exactly what it was about – they didn't need to deal with this, it had been his idea in the first place.

He'd taken his motorcycle to Dan's place early in the morning, and received the information his friend had collected for him. He hadn't quite expected to find the man here, but he'd adapted his plan.

A loud low buzzer sounded in the hallway outside of the small room Remy sat in. The smell of ammonia and other cleaning solvents hid the odor of the place rather well in his opinion: likely, he'd arrived just after the cleaning crew had made its rounds through the visitor's area.

He looked up, his gaze calculating behind his dark sunglasses, and reached up to straighten the corner of his suit he'd worn, as a uniformed guard tugged a man through the doorway.

He wasn't extraordinarily tall – Remy had a few good inches on him – but he more than made up for that in sheer mass. It looked as if he would have been the kind of man who had been a star linebacker in his high school years, much of the muscle mass still there but a bit of the years beginning to show with a slight paunch to his stomach.

His dark hair was buzzed close to his head in a crew cut, and his brown eyes stared out at Remy in a curious, confused manner. His appearance had 'Thug' written all over it. He looked like the sort of man who would normally be wearing a biker vest, tattooed up even more than he already was, swinging a chain at some victim of a bike gang. In here, however, he seemed rather out of place in the orange jumpsuit, and thick shackles binding both his hands and his feet together with a short length of chain.

The guard pushed him forward, into the seat across from Remy, and pulled out a thick padlock, which he put through the hand-cuff chain and inserted the end of the padlock into a large eyelet in the solid steel table, and then snapped it shut, binding the man to his place at the table.

"Twenty minutes, maximum," the guard said, nodding politely to Remy before exiting the room, shutting the door of the visiting chamber with a loud clang behind him. Remy had managed to procure the private room for this meeting, rather than the larger, public visitation area which had fifteen or twenty of these tables.

"You're not my lawyer," the man in front of him growled.

Remy nodded slowly, studying the man. While brutish looking, the man's eyes held some sort of spark – of both intelligence and malevolence. This was a smart man, capable of just about anything. Not that that surprised him.

"No, I'm not. I'm just here payin' a visit. Wanted to meet you face to face – we have a mutual acquaintance," Remy said, slipping into his Robert Lord persona.

Remy stared quietly at him, his hands twitching, wanting to form fists. "So…. Matt Rushman. You're different than I imagined you'd be," he said.

Matt rolled his eyes. "C'mon, you interrupted my free time in the yard. I don't know who it is you talked with to find out about me, but let's get this over with – what do you want?"

Remy smiled slowly, dangerously. "There's a lot that I want. I've been thinkin' about this moment for a long time now, what I'd do when I finally met you face-to-face. Usually it involved some variation of pounding your face into a bloody pulp, and leaving you to choke on your own blood. But this….." Remy shook his head, chuckling slightly. "What was it I heard? Fifteen, twenty years in here – armed robbery? By the time you get out you'll be an old man. And I know what prison can do to you. This is even better than I could have hoped for."

Matt leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Listen, pal, I don't like your tone. You got some sort of beef with me? What, I steal your woman or something? Get over it, you pansy. I don't need to sit here and listen to this." He said, and then turned his head toward the door, making to call for the guard.

Remy shook his head. "Don't bother. I slipped him a hundred bucks before he brought you here. He's taking a little cigarette break for the next ten minutes. Until then, you're all mine."

A hint of uneasiness appeared in the man's eyes, and he sat back slightly. "Well, what do you want? To beat me up? Some big man you are, coming to beat up a guy chained to a table."

Remy chuckled. "No, I don't want to. Not anymore. I don't need to waste my energy. I just wanted to come here and see you. Look you in the face. See the coward that blamed his little girl for her mother's death. The coward that beat his daughter, called her a freak, and then abandoned her."

Matt's face somehow managed to pale while turning red with anger. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were we going a little too fast for you to keep up? I'm talking about you – the sick bastard who gets off on hurting his own daughter, and abandoning her alone on the street to fend for herself. Did you forget her name already? 'Sarah' ringing any bells?"

The paling of the man's face seemed to win out over the other colors vying for their place. "How the _fuck_ do you know about Sarah?"

Remy spread his hands. "She's alive. She survived all of the shit you threw at her, and all that the city had to offer. You left her to survive on her own on the streets with the criminal lowlifes just like yourself – the rapists, the murderers. But she's stronger than that, and she made it out."

"And now, she lives with people that understand her, and that love her for who – and _what_ she is. When she first told me about you, I _did_ want to cave your face in. But now, you're living in prison, while she's free from you, from what you did to her. You _failed_. You tried to destroy a precious, innocent little girl because of your bigotry toward mutants. But it didn't work, and now she's stronger for all the experiences you put her through."

"Believe me, I'd still love to shove your nose down your throat, but I've got better things to do with my life, and you aren't worth the prison time." Remy finished, slowly beginning to stand up.

"Who _are_ you?" Matt asked. "Who the hell are you, thinking you can come in here and lecture me on what I did with that little freak?"

Remy shook his head sadly, his lips twitching in disgust. "The name is Julien Boudreaux, if you must know," he said, laughing silently to himself at how easily that had come to him. "And I'm the person that's tryin' to be the father-figure that little girl has needed all her life. Trying to make up for what a pathetic, small-minded bigot did to her. And no, we'll never see one another again, in case you were wondering, or getting ideas in your head to come find us in a few decades when they let your carcass out of here."

"Bastard-" Matt began, spitting out the word.

Remy raised a hand, cutting him off sharply. "Go back to your pathetic life, Rushman. This is over." He started moving toward the door, and then paused several steps away.

Remy turned his head back, reaching a hand up to drop down his sunglasses, enjoying the flinch from Matthew when he saw his red-on-black eyes. "Oh, by the way. I've got friends with some connections in the prison scene. Right this moment they're starting to spread the word about you – the things you've done, what you did to Sarah. I hear word travels fast in a place like this. I'll bet there's quite a few guys out there with little girls back home waiting for their daddies to get out. I wonder how they'll feel about sharing the prison with a man that beats little girls and throws them out on the street?"

Matt shrunk back in his seat, his hands trembling slightly at what would be in store for him, and Remy's smirk grew as he cocked his head slightly to the side. "And just a head's up – I told my friends what you did and they weren't too happy. I didn't exactly tell them what to say, so they just might embellish it a bit, make it a little more juicy for the inmates: I hear pedophiles are even more popular 'round here than child-beaters. Have fun!" Remy called over his shoulder as he opened the door to reveal the guard – who in reality had never been slipped money and had never left the door unattended.

"Thanks, officer, we're done here," he said, smiling as he passed the guard, leaving the speechless - and now rather terrified - Matt Rushman behind in the room.

Remy made his way through the prison, needing to show his visitor's badge several times before he reached the outer doors, and his waiting motorcycle.

He made it several dozen miles, through the countryside on the way to the mansion before he pulled off the side of the road and walked deliberately into the woods, only there letting out his anger that he'd reigned in during the visit.

Several minutes later he was sitting in a small clearing, his knuckles bleeding slightly, panting heavily while surrounded by a dozen splintered and broken trees he'd channeled his powers into through his hands as he punched them. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, and then stood up and walked back to his bike.

* * *

Remy yanked on a t-shirt, his hair still slightly damp from the shower he'd taken after he'd returned to the mansion. He pulled the door to his bedroom open and found himself blocked by Rogue, who was leaning casually against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest.

"_Chére_," he said, leaning forward to kiss her lightly on the lips.

She raised an eyebrow as he pulled back, her eyes running over him, and then walked into the room, and grabbed his hand. "Yah have a nice joyride?" She asked softly, kissing his cheek.

"_Oui_, it was a nice long one." He answered hesitantly.

She raised his hand in hers, looking pointedly at the still-healing skin on his knuckles that she'd spotted when he'd come through the garage and headed up to shower. "Remy….." She said gently. "That was an awful long trip t'see Dan, wasn' it? An' who'd you get in a fight with?"

He ran a free hand through his hair and expelled his breath. "I didn' want you to get worried, _Chére_. I saw Dan, but I had some business to take care of too – he found some information for me."

"Business?" She asked, worried.

"_Non_, not a heist or anythin' like dat, if dat's what y'thinking, _ma Chére_. I…. Dan hunted down Matt Rushman." He said softly.

She looked at him in confusion. "Who?"

Remy grimaced. "Sarah's _father_," he spat the word.

Rogue felt her eyes widen, and her breath caught in her throat for a moment. "Should… should we be expectin' people lookin' 'round for a dead body?" She asked warily.

Remy grunted, and leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. "_Non_, nothin' like dat, even though I'd prefer dat." He shook his head. "He's in prison, an' I went to pay a little visit. See jus' what de _batard_ looks like. Make him piss his pants a little too," he said with a smirk.

"Do Ah wanna know?" Rogue asked, relieved that Remy hadn't done anything rash – frankly she figured if Rushman and Sabretooth were standing in front of him, it'd at least be a tossup on who he'd wipe the floor with, but Rushman was the more likely bet given that Remy saw the effects of Rushman's actions every day he spent with Sarah, while Sabretooth's actions were much more in the past.

"I tol' him dat pretty soon his buddies in prison wit' him will hear what he did to Sarah, which'll make him their new fav'rite punchin' bag. An' I mighta hinted dat dey might hear he's a pedophile," he said, grinning slightly.

Rogue's jaw dropped. "Remy! You – are you really going to?" She asked, eyes wide, her expression struggling between shock and a grin.

He shrugged. "Dey're gonna hear somet'ing. I'm leavin' it up to Dan – he's de one dat can get into contact wit' de people dat'll get that spread around."

"What'd he say?" She asked.

"Not a whole lot after I told him why I was payin' him a visit. De look on his face when I tol' him de whole prison would know was priceless," Remy said with a slight grin.

Rogue shook her head, and then ran a thumb over his scraped-up knuckles where her hand still gripped his. "Well, if yah didn't beat the hell outta him, what happened?"

Remy's smile faded slightly, and he shrugged. "Had t'get my frustrations out some way. Found a nice place along de road an' took dem out on a few unfortunate trees. Didn' want to bottle it up all de ride back."

Rogue looked up at him compassionately, squeezing his hand. "Mah boyfriend, always beatin' up on defenseless trees," she said, teasing him gently – she knew he hated it when he let his anger get the best of him. "So how long's he in for, Sugah?"

"'bout twenty years. He's can apply for consideration of parole in fifteen. I'll make sure I keep an eye on dat – if he does, I'll get de police lookin' into his past a bit, 'specially his missin' daughter. He's gonna be in a long time."

Remy released her hand, and then slid his arm around her shoulder, pulling over toward his bed, where a folder filled with a sheaf of papers – which he'd received earlier from Dan – now rested.

"Rushman was jus' a side benefit, though – Dan happened to find out where he was a little bit before he called me for de main thing." Remy said and snatched up the folder, handing it to her.

She glanced at him curiously until he nodded to her that she should look inside. She opened it up, and her eyes skimmed over the first page while he watched.

He grinned to himself as he watched her brow furrow – he loved watching her while she tried to figure something out, she just made the cutest expressions. He leaned closer, resting his chin on her shoulder as she read.

She finally looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Remy, this is….."

He nodded. "Mm-hmm. It is."

Her expression softened, and she pulled away to reverently set the stack of papers on the nightstand. She turned around, and smiled. "Remy, thank yah for remindin' me why Ah love yah so much, Sugah," she said, grabbing his shirt and yanking him in close.

Her lips pressed against his firmly, and he smiled against them. "Guess I should do dis more often," he mumbled, his hand reaching up to tangle in the back of her hair as she pulled him backward until they tumbled down onto his mattress.

* * *

Warren walked over to the small podium that had been set up for the makeshift press conference, feeling his nervousness flutter through his stomach as it did any time he spoke publicly. It wasn't unmanageable, and it was something even the best speakers still got from time to time, but it was there nonetheless.

He glanced around the area set up for the conference – several dozen chairs filled with reporters and journalists from various news organizations and publications. He almost shook his head in amazement at what they had managed to pull together, and the sheer amount of people there.

Lorna had been instrumental in putting together the press conference itself, getting into contact with many of the news agencies represented there and convincing them the announcement would be a story worth covering, and then setting up the area they were using for the meeting itself.

Hank's friend Trish Tilby, who waved to him from where she sat in the front row when she spotted him, had been just as helpful. She'd been quite willing to spread the word through her contacts at other news stations – of course after she'd been guaranteed an exclusive, more detailed interview following the press conference.

The crowd's interest was already more than piqued, given that Charles and several of the others who were quite recognizable to them were already nearby the podium, behind where Warren would be standing.

Warren schooled his face, and then cleared his throat, the sound picked up by the microphone and carried around the room. "I'd like to thank you all for taking time out of your day to come here. I'll keep this short – as you leave you'll be given a full press packet that gives a more detailed explanation than what I can give up here."

"Today I'm going to tell you about an organization I have started, called Mutants Without Borders. Like the name suggests, this is a Non-Governmental Organization and charity that is similar in some ways to Doctors Without Borders. We are primarily a humanitarian aid organization, which will provide aid to developing countries and areas experiencing disasters, utilizing mutants across the world and their unique abilities to provide that aid. A secondary goal of Mutants Without Borders is to provide a lobbying platform in the United States political system, as well as the political systems of other countries to attain adequate civil rights for the world's mutant population.

" I'd like to thank a number of people for their support of my idea and their funding." He gestured at those standing behind him. "Dr. Charles Xavier and Dr. Nathaniel Essex, two of the foremost authorities in genetics in the US; Dr. Reed Richards, known for his expertise in Physics, Aeronautics, Cosmology, and of course his participation with the Fantastic Four group in New York City."

"Dr. Moira MacTaggert and Sean Cassidy and the Muir Island Research Facility in Scotland; Sir Brian Braddock, whose family has been leaders of the mutant political reforms in the UK; and finally Shiro Yoshida who could not make it today – he is the CEO of Yoshida Corporation, a Japanese-based genetics and biotech company."

Warren took a breath. "Without their help, I would not have been able to start this organization, and without their advice and guidance as the board of directors, it would not have gone anywhere."

"That's briefly the outline of what I brought you here to talk about today, and I'd be more than happy to answer questions and expand on what I've said at this time, so I'll open up the floor to you."

Instantly the reporters began to stand up, hoping to get their questions in. "Let's start with Miss Tilby, and continue from there," Warren said.

Trish nodded, and looked down at a notebook she'd been scribbling in. "You mentioned Mutants Without Borders will largely be a humanitarian aid organization – what sort of efforts will you focus on – and do you have employees, or will this be largely a volunteer organization?"

Warren smiled – she'd already told him what her question would be beforehand so he was ready for it. "A large part of the focus will be on getting aid to regions in which mutants are experiencing significant hardships, like the situation in Nigeria, but we are more than willing to help anyone human or mutant, in disaster relief efforts."

"And I'm glad you asked your second question, because we're going to mainly be a volunteer organization. Any mutant or human who would like to volunteer and go out on aid missions and relief efforts will be welcome. In fact, a number of volunteers were in the news a few days ago helping the rescue efforts in the Washington D.C. area, so we've already begun our work."

He smiled to himself as he heard the chatter in the group of reporters as the realized what he was referring to. "Tony, your question?" He said, pointing to Tony Engles, a reporter from CNN that he'd come to know over the years.

Tony stood up, and adjusted his glasses, the cameraman he'd brought with him focusing in on him as he began to speak. "Warren, as many of my viewers know from my coverage of Worthington Enterprises, the Yoshida Corporation is one of the company's biggest rivals in the field of genetics – have you had any difficulties with conflict due to that rivalry?"

Warren shook his head. "No. When I began planning this organization, I withdrew from all my associations with my father's company, and I have used my own money to help fund Mutants Without Borders, and Worthington Enterprises is not associated with our group, so there's been no conflict. I've spoken with Mr. Yoshida over the phone several times, and he was more than willing to work with me to make this happen."

He turned his attention to a tall, blond-haired woman who stood patiently in the third row. "What is your question, Miss…." He trailed off, gesturing toward her.

"Madeline Teller, columnist and writer for the New York Times. Do you foresee this being a US based organization, or is this more of an international effort – given that you were inspired by Doctors Without Borders?"

Warren nodded. "Definitely international. Right now our main branch is based here in New York, but we'll soon be expanding, and we're registered as an International NGO. Mr. Braddock has been invaluable in organizing efforts to set up our next branch in the UK, and that one should be operational by December. I hope after the announcement I'll be able to start in talks with other countries to begin setting up smaller branches in other areas around the world."

"But we are an international effort. I've already begun discussions with the International Red Cross to partner up with them on relief efforts and those are going well. The political side will also definitely be international – it is my hope that once we're eligible we'll apply for membership with the United Nations ECOSOC council to begin improving mutant rights throughout the world."

Madeline nodded, and thanked him before sitting back down, her tape recorder still running in her hand as she began to scribble in a notebook on her lap.

Warren turned toward another person, a short man with a receding hairline, who he vaguely remembered covering several of Worthington Industries' press events. "Your question, Mister… Cooper, isn't it?"

The man nodded. "James Cooper, from CNBC. Would you mind explaining to us what it was, in particular, that inspired you to create this organization – to work for mutant rights?"

Warren took a deep breath –this was a question he'd been expecting, and had decided it would be the best opportunity to reveal the second thing he'd hoped to announce during the conference.

Lorna caught his eye from the back of the room, and she smiled encouragingly, and he relaxed slightly.

Warren cleared his throat softly, and then leaned closer to the microphone. "The main impetus behind my decision, Mister Cooper, is due to my being a mutant myself."

He paused for a moment, and the entire crowd was silent, it seemed as if they were waiting for him to crack a grin and say he was just pulling their legs. When he said nothing of the sort, Cooper stood up once more. "Excuse me, I just want to ensure I got that, Mister Worthington – you're a mutant?"

Warren finally smiled, and then nodded. "Yes," he said before pulling off the long coat he'd worn to the podium, revealing his large white wings spread slightly away from his back, ignoring a large number of shocked gasps, as if they'd not really believed him when he said it.

"Yes. In fact that was one of the driving forces behind my father's company and their work for a 'Cure'," he said making air quotes with his fingers. "I chose not to take it, but I was one of the reasons so much effort was put into developing it."

He sighed softly. "I began in the last year or so, to realize that I am a perfect example of how one-sided society is toward mutants and humans. I'm a successful businessman, and quite rich, and got into the best schools as I grew up. And the only way I got here was by concealing the fact that I was a mutant. That's one of the things I want to change with my efforts with Mutants Without Borders."

"I want our country to achieve equal treatment, and tolerance of mutants some day, just like we have been able to do in the past with things like the Civil Rights movement, and have come very close to with Gay and Lesbian rights in recent years. Someday I want a little mutant child – like I was when I discovered I was a mutant – to be able to dream about becoming a successful person in society, and not have to think – 'Well, to do that I'll need to hide the fact that I'm a mutant'."

"I realized that I have the ability to start our country, and even the world, moving toward changing the attitudes we unfortunately see with respect to mutant rights, and this organization will hopefully be only the beginning."

After giving the reporters a bit of time to recover from the surprise announcement, he continued the question and answer session. After several follow-ups about his outing himself as a mutant, he began to open it up to questions for not just himself, but Charles and the others.

The mutant revelation would likely be the biggest news later that evening, he knew, but most of the stories run on that would more than likely have a good section on Mutants Without Borders. In all likelihood, the revelation would get the organization much more airtime than simply the announcement itself would have.

And, as the questioning session went on, he felt like an enormous, heavy weight that had long been part of his life, had been lifted from his shoulders. He no longer had to hide, no longer had to keep such an integral part of himself secret, and at the moment it was one of the best feelings in his life.

* * *

Ororo stopped as she began near the door to the entertainment room, hearing the tail end of Kurt's conversation on the phone where he sat on one of the couches of the otherwise empty room.

"_Ja_, of course, I am looking forward to it…."

Ororo saw him smile at whatever was said on the other end of the call, and then answer.

"Okay, I vill see you then. Goodbye, 'Manda."

He hung up the phone and replaced it in the charging cradle on the table next to him, and stood up, jumping slightly when he saw Ororo standing in the doorway.

"Ororo, I didn't hear you come in," he said surprised.

She smiled slightly. "Just got here, Kurt." She raised her eyebrow, looking at him curiously. "'Manda'?"

Kurt blushed slightly – an interesting sight to her, his blue skin simply becoming darker on his cheeks. His three-fingered hand reached up to rub at the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"_Ja_," he said quietly. "You know how I said, vhen I escaped that… SENTINEL, I landed on a farm? _Und_ then I got picked up _und_ met you _und_ the others at the Helicarrier?"

Ororo nodded. "Yeah, I remember that."

"Vell, the daughter of the owner vas the one that found me, _und_….. she gave me her number. Ve haff gone out for dinner twice now since then, _und_ I really like her." He said, shrugging slightly. "Her name is Amanda Sefton."

Ororo smiled. "Well, good for you, Kurt. You should have told me." She frowned slightly. "Doesn't she live quite a ways away from here?"

Kurt nodded. "_Ja_, unfortunately. That is vhy we haven't done anything more than those two times. It's whenever I get a chance to travel down that direction, vhen Charles sends me on one of his errands."

He smiled slightly. "I like her. Very much," he said softly.

Ororo grinned at him, and rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy for you, Kurt. After everything in your past…. You deserve something like this," she said. "So I take it from what I heard that you two are going somewhere again?"

Kurt nodded. "This time she vill be up here, in New York City. She got us tickets to a concert a few days from now." His brow furrowed. "It's her favorite singer, but I'm not very familiar with the latest music here in the US. I think she said it vas 'Dazzler', or something like that?"

Ororo nodded. "Yeah, it's Dazzler. She's sort of a rock/pop singer who's become really popular the last few years. I think you'll like the concert. She's known for the pyrotechnics and light shows that her band does during their performances."

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. "I guess I should learn a bit more before I go, so I don't look completely clueless."

Ororo chuckled. "Probably, Kurt." A sly look passed through her eyes. "You know, you should bring her here while she's in the area. Let us meet her."

He hesitated at that, blushing again. "Vell, I guess I could, but it's not like we've been dating for long…. I vill talk to her and see vhat she thinks. At least you vill not be able to torture me by showing her my baby pictures or anything," he said, the white teeth in his wide grin clashing starkly with his blue skin.

Ororo shook her head. "I'm sure I could think of something if you wanted," she offered, her eyes twinkling.

"_Nien_," he said quickly. "No need to do that." He paused for a moment, his expression becoming a bit more serious. "I hope you vill like her, though."

Ororo squeezed his shoulder. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine, Kurt."

He nodded, and relaxed somewhat. "Vere you coming in here to watch television?"

"If you don't mind the company."

Kurt nodded and moved to the side, making sure his tail was curled down next to his leg – he'd learned the hard way, especially with the younger people of the mansion who didn't pay attention to where they sat, never to be too careful while sitting on the couch.

Ororo settled down next to her friend – she and Kurt had become much closer once he'd started staying at the mansion more often, with Xavier's errands becoming fewer for him as the year went by. It had started when they'd first met, on the jet as she and Jean flew back from the church they'd found him in, but for several months she'd barely seen him.

He offered her the remote, but she let him choose what to watch. They'd sat there several minutes as he scrolled through channels until he hit on a _Pirates of the Caribbean_ marathon. He was disheartened to find the credits rolling at the end of the third film, and ended up switching over to CNN once it was obvious there was little else on.

They caught the tail end of a piece on Warren's announcement before it went to the next hour with different newscasters. The opening news was – according to the bottom of the screen – breaking news.

_A young reporter stood on a road, the camera angle such that it kept him on one side of the image but left the rest open so people could see what was going on behind him. He stood several hundred feet from an expensive looking house with privacy fences around it, the front drive gated off directly behind him. Behind the gate, half a dozen police cars and several vans and an ambulance, as well as a vehicle labeled "Jefferson County Coroner", and well over a dozen uniformed men were moving about, in and out of the house as a covered gurney was rolled out and two people began to put it into the coroner's van._

_"I'm reporting from outsidethe Colorado residence of US Senator Greg Johnson, the incumbent Democratic candidate for this November's Senate Election in Colorado. Tragically, it appears that Senator Johnson and his wife were murdered late last evening._

_"Police have said little thus far, other than confirming that Senator Johnson and his wife were among the ten people found dead this morning. Our sources inside the local law enforcement suggested that the other eight were members of Senator Johnson's security detail, who guarded him while he moved around the country and provided security for his home."_

_"They also said that each person seems to have been killed with a knife or similar instrument, and they're suggesting possibly professional assassins would have been required to subdue and kill the security team and the Senator."_

_"The Senator has made many enemies in his support of environmental safety regulations, and many more in his support of mutant rights, and some are suggesting that the latter may be the motive behind the killing."_

_"At the moment, although we have not been able to confirm, our analysts suggest that his Democratic opponent in the primaries will take his place for this November's election, in order to provide opposition to the Republican candidate."_

_"We will bring more to you when we get further information on this unfolding, very tragic event. Several local churches are planning to hold candlelight vigils for the next several nights in remembrance of this much-loved Senator. Back to you, Lisa."_

_The newswoman in the main studio appeared on the screen, looking somber. "Thank you, Charles, very tragic." She said to the man who sat next to her in the studio._

_He nodded. "Indeed, Lisa, and this is a huge blow to the Senate – Senator Johnson was the Senate Majority Whip, and well-respected amongst his colleagues."_

_The graphics on the screen shifted to show a picture of what looked like a tropical island. _

_"Now, our other top story," Lisa began, "is the rather odd television takeover that occurred earlier today. Earlier, at one Eastern time, a short, puzzling commercial took over the airwaves. According to reports, the commercial overtook regular broadcasting on every television station in the United States – including cable and satellite stations."_

_"And we've received confirmations that similar commercials occurred across Europe at nearly the same time. Officials with broadcasting networks are baffled by the broadcast, which appears to have been from an outside network, which essentially hacked into every channel and overrode the regular broadcasts. Here is the commercial itself."_

_The screen flashed and then went black for a moment, before slowly gaining color, which focused in on the same lush tropical island from earlier, resting in beautiful blue seas._

_The screen flashed back to black, and then white text appeared. "A tropical haven, open to all mutants."_

_It went back to a closer picture of the island, which appeared to be taken from the beach, and kept alternating in that manner._

_"Remove yourself from the discrimination."_

_The screen changed to a picture of one of the Humanity Now! Rallies supporting Proposition X, flashing up to close-ups of the signs calling for mutant population control, mandatory Cure, and restricted reproductive rights._

_"Enjoy the protection of our community."_

_Fast images of what looked almost like a small city flashed across the screen, the streets empty, as if waiting for people to walk in them._

_"Make Genosha your sanctuary."_

_The camera panned out to an aerial view of a large island and two smaller ones flanking it, and then faded out slightly for more text to appear, including a website at the bottom._

_"Peace, Paradise, Protection: Genosha" _

_The screen returned to the newsroom, and she continued to speak. "Very little is known about this 'Genosha'. It appears to be labeling itself a private refuge for mutants, but the website in the commercial provides little more information. It does promise a more detailed broadcast in the coming days, however."_

_"The website is paid for by a private company called Magus Enterprises, which is involved in investments pertaining to Gulf and Caribbean oil and mineral resources, and none of our queries to the company have received a reply at this time."_

Ororo chewed slightly on her inner cheek – a habit she'd gotten into when she was deep in thought. She glanced over to Kurt. "Interesting timing," she commented, "with Warren and the Mutants Without Borders announcement yesterday."

Kurt nodded "_Ja_, it is. I vonder if this is real, or some sort of joke…."

Ororo shrugged and stood up. "Well, either way, I think Charles should hear about it if he hasn't already – I'm going to see if he's back yet."

Kurt flashed her a smile as she stood up. "_Gud_, I will see you later."

* * *

Charles wasn't in his office, so she figured he was still caught up in the opening work at Warren's office in town.

As she walked back away from the office and toward the stairs she heard a loud rapping at the front door. There was a pause as she walked toward it and then it started up again.

She pulled the door open to find a short, olive-skinned young woman standing in front of the door, her fist raised to knock once more. She had her shoulder-length black hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her brown eyes lit up as she saw Ororo – and Ororo noted a large suitcase resting near her feet.

"Hi," she greeted Ororo, "I think your doorbell might be broken?" she said, jabbing a finger into the button several times, and no noise entered through the front hall.

Ororo raised her eyes heavenward for a moment. '_Remy and Logan.'_ She thought to herself, and then smiled at the younger woman, who appeared to be in her mid twenties.

"Sorry about that, we're finishing putting in a new security system, and some of the electrical systems around here are a little on the fritz. I hope you weren't knocking long." Ororo said.

She shook her head. "No, just started, after I realized I wasn't hearing the bell." She extended a hand toward Ororo. "I'm Xi'an Coy Manh. Am I – is this really the School - Xavier's school?" She asked. "I mean, I know the sign was out there, but this doesn't exactly look like a regular boarding school."

Ororo smiled, shaking her hand. "We get that a lot. It used to be a family mansion, but we've converted it into the school. I'm Ororo Munroe, one of the head teachers - how can I help you, Miss….. Manh was it?"

"Just Xi'an is fine. I'm actually here to see Charles. He said to just drop by when I got into town. I'm - he's hired me as the School Councilor?"

Ororo's eyes widened. "Oh, yes, he'd said something about that – but he hadn't mentioned your name. I'm afraid he's not here right now, but he should be back in a few hours. Please, come in though – you can just leave your suitcase in the entrance here, and once Charles gets back he can tell you where your room will be."

Xi'an lifted her suitcase by the handle, and pulled it into the Entrance Hall. She set it down on the inside near the door, and glanced around the large space, and the architecture of the ground floor. "Beautiful place," she said.

Ororo smiled. "It's actually Charles' – it's been in his family for several generations now, and we've found it's a very relaxing, home-like atmosphere for the students."

Xi'an nodded to herself. "I can definitely see that being the case."

"Would you like a tour? It takes a bit of getting used to around here." Ororo said.

"If you wouldn't mind," Xi'an said.

Ororo led her around the house, chatting with the friendly woman as she showed her the main areas of the Mansion – she'd been particularly enthusiastic when Ororo showed her the library.

"Where are you from, Xi'an?" She asked her as they walked through the kitchen.

"Los Angeles. My mom and dad are from Vietnam, but they moved over here just before I was born. Grew up right in LA, and it wasn't until I went to college that I got a change of scenery." At Ororo's questioning look, she added, "I came out here to the East Coast for school, got my Masters in Psychology in Philadelphia a year ago."

She shook her head. "Jobs like that aren't very easy to come by – I've been working as an assistant at one of the psychologist practices in Philly, but that's been part time and rent isn't cheap there so I was struggling a bit before Charles called me and invited me to talk over dinner about a job opportunity," she said gesturing around at the Mansion.

She smiled slightly. "This was actually what I wanted to do – counseling – so I jumped at the chance to come here."

Ororo nodded slightly, leading her out onto the Mansion grounds. "How'd you settle on psychology?"

Xi'an grinned, and tapped her forehead. "It was sort of a mix of my mutant power and my own interests. I'm a psi – I can sort of project my mind out and temporarily take over someone else's mind."

"So, getting into people's heads is something that already came natural to me, and so I was interested in the actual science of how people think, and how minds work. It really helped me get a lot better control over my powers so I wasn't just possessing random people when I was upset or sad."

Ororo nodded. "Sounds like the perfect career choice."

Xi'an laughed. "It definitely is. And like I said, I always wanted to be a counselor, help people – especially mutants like me – with their problems, give them advice, that sort of stuff. And I've got three younger siblings back home, so I know how to deal with kids. Is it true that _all _of the kids here are mutants?"

"Yes," Ororo said, "so far we're all mutants. I think the only baseline human that will be in our building is Annie, our school nurse – I'll have to introduce her to you later. Charles has dreamt of opening up to both humans and mutants, anyone who is gifted, but we're waiting for some attitudes to change in the country before we start that. Safety is one of our biggest focuses and until things improve I don't think we'd be able to keep the school safe."

Xi'an frowned and nodded. "Unfortunately you're probably right – I'm hoping the election in the fall will be the start of changes in a positive direction."

They heard the rumble of a car up the driveway as they neared the back door entrance back to the kitchen. "That's probably Charles. I'll take you to meet him – if you want the full tour just find me and I'll show you the rest of the place. I'll be down here for supper," Ororo said, gesturing as they passed the countertop.

"I'll take you up on that – It's great to have met you, Ororo, I'm looking forward to working here with you." Xi'an said, smiling, and shaking Ororo's hand once more, as they walked toward the garage to meet Charles.

* * *

"Remy?" Sarah called as she opened the door to his bedroom. The lights near his bed were on so she stepped in further, glancing at the darkened bathroom, and then around the wall hiding her view of his bed.

It was empty, so she sighed, and walked over to switch off the lamp by the bed. She'd have to go searching for him – the last time she'd found him before their little vacation, he'd been somewhere out on the mansion grounds in the forest surrounding the property, setting up the boundaries of the security system he and Logan were installing.

She turned around and started to walk back out of the room, but an open folder filled with papers on the dresser caught her eye. She stepped closer, glancing at it – the top page was some sort of legal document from what she could see.

The words 'legal guardian' caught her attention just as she was about to turn away from it - not wanting to snoop into whatever Remy had there - but she froze on the spot when she saw a signature in the bottom right corner, scrawling out the name 'Matthew Rushman'. She'd never seen her father's actual signature or if she had it has been too long ago to remember, so she wasn't sure if it was really his or not.

"I keep tellin' you y'not a very good spy, _petite_," Remy's voice came from the open doorway.

Sarah let out a strangled squeak, and jumped, whirling to face Remy, who stood in the doorway, a smirk on his face, trying not to laugh at her reaction.

"R-Remy!" Sarah said, blushing. "Sorry, I was just lookin' for you, an'…. Sorry, I didn't mean t'snoop."

Remy chuckled, and walked into the room, ruffling her hair, to her annoyance. "S'alright, _petite_. I was gonna show you dat anyway."

"What is it?" She asked quickly, feeling she now had Remy's approval to get nosy. "Is that my dad's signature? What's it mean about legal guardian?"

Remy smiled, and picked up the packet of papers. "C'mon, Sarah, let's sit down an' talk," he said, gesturing toward the bed, "an' I'll tell ya."

She hurried over to the bed, still slightly shaken at seeing the name on the paper, and he sat down next to her with his legs folded.

"First off, dat's not really his signature. It's a copy – Y'remember Dan?"

She nodded, recalling how he'd gotten her passport together for her for their trip to Denver.

"Dat's his work – got dis when I went to see him yesterday. I… found your dad," he said hesitantly.

Sarah's eyes widened, and she felt her heartbeat speed up. "You did?" she asked, her voice shaky.

Remy wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Yeah. He's in jail. Gonna be locked away a long, long time. You don' have to worry 'bout him anymore, _ma mignonne_."

She closed her eyes, and nodded against his arm. "Thanks for tellin' me, Remy."

"So, I wanted t'talk to you 'bout dese papers – Dan's been workin' on dem for a while now."

She opened her eyes and looked down at the folder. "What are they? Why'd you need his signature."

"Well, _petite_… dey're an application I'm gonna file wit' de government if you agree. I… I wanna…. Dey're adoption papers, _petite_," he said softly.

Sarah's mouth fell open, and she stared at him for several long moments, before looking down at her lap. "You… you want to adopt me, Remy? You don't have to do that…" She said, her voice unsure.

He slid a finger under her chin, making her meet his eyes. "I want to, Sarah. I… you've changed my life. I'd still be a t'ief, runnin' round stealin' things if I hadn' met you. You made me realize dere's more to life den jus' dat. I love you so much, Sarah, an' you're practically my daughter already – dis'll jus' make it official. I want to be a real father for you – you've missed out on dat all these years an' I wanna make up for dat de best I can. All I gotta do is file dese an' dis happens, so I want to know if dis is what _you_ want too. D'you want me to adopt you?"

Sarah threw her arms around him, squeezing him so tightly he began to wonder if she'd somehow gotten Rogue's powers. She nodded against his chest over and over, before finally pulling back, tears streaming down her face.

"Of course I do, silly," she said with a choked laugh. "I- thank you, Remy."

He leaned his head down, forehead against her own, the small spikes from her bones not bothering him as they poked against his skin, and he felt a few tears of his own drip from his eyes.

"Y'don' know how happy I am to hear dat, _ma mignonne_. I've been plannin' it for a while now, hoped you'd want it as much as I do."

She sniffled, and put her arms around his neck, keeping them in that position. "I do." She said again, her expression the happiest he'd seen on her face, even more than when he'd first told her he loved her.

He shifted slightly to kiss her cheek, and set the folder to the side. "I'll send dese in as soon as I can den."

She finally released him, and reached up to wipe at the tear tracks on her face. "Do… do I get to call you daddy?"

Remy smiled. "You sure can, _petite."_

She grinned. "Okay…. Daddy."

He felt his throat tighten, as she said it, and pulled her into another hug.

She frowned slightly, and then looked up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. "Or maybe I'll call you _Pére_," she said, hesitantly using the word she heard him always use for his own father.

He chuckled, and kissed her forehead. "Dat would work too, _petite_. An' you're my _Fille_." He said. "Whatever you want t'call me. Y'can still call me Remy if you want, too."

She beamed up at him. "I'll hafta think 'bout it."

She gasped a moment later. "We hafta tell everyone!" she said excitedly, jumping up from the bed and grabbing his hand.

He laughed and let her pull him up after her. "Alright. Let's tell Rogue first. She knows I got de papers, but not dat I talked t'you about dem."

She smiled back at him, and surprised him by stopping and getting up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Remy. You're the greatest."

* * *

Kitty drew a heavy sigh. "Y'know, I love my mom to pieces, but sometimes she can just be so _frustrating_! Sometimes I just wanna, I don't know, whack her over the head so she'll listen to me."

She and Piotr were sitting on the grass of the large Chicago park they'd met at for the afternoon. Piotr was resting with his back against a low decorative barrier near the edge of the park, and she sat with her legs folded slightly in front of him, Buckingham Fountain roaring in the distance behind her.

The Buckingham Fountain, an enormous and elaborate multiple-nozzle fountain set in the center of a large decorative pool, was one of the centerpieces of Grant Park, considered the 'front yard' of the city by most native Chicagoans.

They'd passed it often during the summer, usually going to the Chicago Art Institute or one of the other museums in the area, but this was the first time they'd just relaxed and hung out in the park itself.

Piotr chuckled slightly at her statement, and looked up from the sketchbook he had resting on his lap. "What is she doing now?"

Kitty shook her head. "It's this school thing she brought up before summer. She's still trying to talk me into leaving Xavier's and into going to one of the schools around here to finish my degree. This morning I went back to my room, and she put a brochure for one of the community colleges on my bed!"

Kitty threw her hands up in the air. "It's like she doesn't listen to a word I say. Or she doesn't realize I _want_ to stay where I am, with people who I know, with my friends."

Piotr shrugged his shoulders. "Have you sat her down and really talked about it?" He asked.

"Yeah – that's the thing. Even when I'm completely straight with her, and we have a conversation about it for a half hour, it's like she's hearing what she wants to hear instead of what I'm actually saying."

Piotr grimaced. "Do you think it's something because of the divorce? Trying to keep hold of you because of it?"

Kitty sighed. "Probably, it's been ever since she finally told me about it."

"Maybe she'll take the hint when we head back to New York in a few weeks."

Kitty nodded, and rested her chin in her palm. "I hope so." She sighed again. "Anyway, 'nuff about that – anything new with you? Any dysfunctional family tales?" She asked teasingly.

Piotr laughed, and shook his head. "No, sorry, no family problems. Illyana's getting antsy about heading to New York though. And…" he trailed off slightly, looking over to her.

"What is it, Pete?"

"You know how you came over to my place over Spring Break, and we talked about Art School? Well… at the beginning of summer I sent in a few applications to some colleges, and yesterday I just got my acceptance letter for the New York Academy of Art. I can start in January after I finish up at the community college." He said.

"Really? Pete, that's great! Congratulations," she said, startling him with a tight hug. "You should have said something."

Piotr shrugged slightly, blushing. "Well, I wasn't sure if I'd get into any of the programs, so I decided to wait until they actually responded."

"They would've been dumb not to accept you," Kitty said seriously.

"Thanks."

She put a hand on his arm. "So? Where is this place? You're still gonna stay at the Mansion, right?"

Piotr nodded. "Yeah – I only applied to places nearby. Illyana would have killed me if I went and moved away after her first semester there," he said grinning. "It's in New York City, so it'll be a bit of a drive, but they're pretty flexible in their schedules, so I'll be able to just cram all of my classes into three full days, and only have to drive then."

Kitty smiled back. "Good. I – I'm glad you got in, Pete – you'll do great."

Piotr sighed. "I hope so. I had to send them some samples of my work, and they said they liked it."

He set down his pencil, letting his sketchpad drop slightly onto his lap. She'd noticed that ever since they'd talked over spring break, she'd seen him with it more often, and he had begun to draw and sketch more openly. It was a rare day over the summer when he didn't have something with him.

"Can I see it?" She asked, nodding toward the pad on his lap.

He hesitated for a second, and then nodded, tilting it as she scooted over to sit next to him and look at the drawing. It was a rather detailed sketch given that they'd only been there a half hour, and it showed the fountain and the green park area surrounding it, and even had the skyline in the background. And in the foreground there was a small sketch of her sitting like she had been moments before.

She grinned. "I like it."

He looked over at her thoughtfully for a moment, and then folded it against the perforation of the spiral-bound sketchpad, and carefully tore it out of the book and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said softly, settling the piece of paper down in her own lap, looking down at it.

She glanced over to him. "Hey, looks like I'm popular," she said teasingly when she saw the next sketch in the pad, with her and Illyana standing in front of one of the big tanks at the aquarium, looking in at all of the various species of sharks.

Piotr flushed slightly. "Well…. This is my summer book, so you're in a lot of these. We've been hanging out together pretty much every other day. And you're a good subject."

It was Kitty's turn to blush then, and she glanced away, a slight flutter in her heart. "If you say so," she said softly. "I've definitely liked hanging out with you all summer, keeping my mind off of things with the divorce – I can't thank you enough… or Illyana," she finished lamely.

"You're welcome. I'm glad we've been able to spend so much time together – I hope we can still do it this semester."

Kitty grinned. "Definitely, Pete – you've become my best friend…" She wrapped her arms around her knees, and laid her head against his shoulder.

"Kitty, I –" He was cut off when her phone rang loudly from her pocket.

She shifted so she could pull it out easily, and glanced at the text. She sighed, and looked apologetically at Piotr. "My dad," she said in explanation. "He got off work early and he's ready to pick me up on the other side of the park. Now I get to head off to a weekend of awkwardness with him and Anna. Sorry for flaking out early on you," she said, biting her lip.

Anna, her father's girlfriend, was not the easiest person to get along with, although a part of it Kitty knew was that she blamed Anna for her parent's breakup, at least partially. She was still feeling her out, trying to figure what sort of relationship she was willing to have with Anna. Definitely not mother-daughter, but perhaps eventually some sort of friendship.

Piotr smiled, hiding his disappointment. "It's alright. I'll see you in a few days anyway, if you still want to go with Illyana and me to hang out at the mall."

"Yeah, definitely, Pete. And I might call just to talk for a while I'm at dad's place."

Piotr stood up, and then reached out a hand and helped her to her feet. "I'll walk with you to your dad's car," he offered, and smiled to himself when she not only agreed, but also seemed to forget to remove her hand from his as they walked toward the fountain and the other end of the park.

* * *

Remy relaxed lazily on the couch, a hand slowly massaging Rogue's shoulders as she leaned against him while they watched TV. At times he had to strain to hear it over the background sound of Sarah's voice. He glanced over to where she was sitting on the other side of the room on a chair.

She had his cell-phone up to her ear, and had been chatting animatedly with Rahne – aside from the letters they exchanged, they'd kept in contact over the phone a few times each month – for the past half hour.

She had, just like she'd said, pulled him around the mansion earlier the day before, proudly telling everyone they ran into that he was adopting her. Remy smiled with amusement as he remembered her high level of hyperness that had continued well into today. She'd taken his phone to call Rahne and tell her the news as well, and they'd been talking since then.

"Yah made her one happy kid," Rogue said softly, noticing his gaze.

Remy nodded, and then rested his chin on top of her shoulder. "Made m'self pretty happy as well. But she deserves it. More'n deserves it. She had so much time taken away from jus' bein' a kid, growin' up normally."

"You're a good man, Remy LeBeau." Rogue murmured, turning her face to rest her cheek against his for a moment before she felt her powers begin to kick in. She reached a hand up to grab his where it dangled over her shoulder, and entangled her fingers with his. "You'll be a good dad."

He shook his head slightly. "Hope so. Still feels weird, thinkin' about it like dat."

The landline of the mansion rang from the corner of the room, and kept ringing for several moments before Rogue sighed and reluctantly pulled away from him, standing up. "Ah better get that. Probably another parent callin' about what to send with their kid when school starts."

Remy sank back further in his seat, watching her walk over to the corner and pick up the handset.

"Good Afternoon, this's Xavier's," he heard her say over the other noise in the room.

His eyes flicked back to the television, and he grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the TV guide that popped up at the bottom, when he heard the next part.

"Yes, this's Marie….. Oh, hi, what's…"

She was quiet for a long moment, and he glanced back over. He straightened slightly in his seat when he saw her posture stiffen as she listened to the person on the other end.

"What- w-when?" He heard her ask faintly.

He watched her posture remain rigid, and became concerned when he saw the hand not holding the phone trembling against her leg, and the side of her face that he could see paled dramatically.

Remy couldn't hear most of the rest of the conversation, she had lowered her voice as she continued, so he stretched out tentatively with his empathy. He snapped his head back reflexively, yanking back the empathy probe as he felt an overwhelming wave of sadness, guilt, and pain hit him like a sack of bricks.

He gasped for breath for a moment, trying to shake the feeling, remind himself it wasn't his own, and yet it was almost worse, because it was what Rogue was feeling right then.

"Alright, thank yah for c-callin' me," he heard her say, sadness evident in her voice even with her back turned to him. There was a short pause. "Alright, Ah'll be there, if yah're sure…."

He finally saw her nod slightly. "Okay, Ah'll see yah then," she said softly, and then hung the phone up on its cradle, and turned around, her expression twisted into grief, face sallow and pale.

"_Chére_, what's wrong? What's got you so upset?" Remy asked, standing up and moving toward her.

"Cody's dead," Rogue replied with a choked whisper, staring at Remy with a lost, helpless look in her eyes.

* * *

_A/N__: Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. _

_Yes, I know it's an evil cliffhanger, but I was originally going to make it more evil and just have her say "He" is dead, without a name, and make you wait on that so just remember it could have been worse. :D So Creed got his assassination wish, and Pete and Kitty are awkwardly moving toward a relationship together – don't worry it won't be too long now. And yay, Remy's finally adopting Sarah!_

_Quite a few nods to the comics (especially to the characters – Xi'an with the library, and Kurt with the Pirates of the Caribbean mention) here for all my fellow comic readers reading this. _

_Next chapter we of course find out about Cody, and it will be largely a Rogue/Remy centric chapter. Also a bit more with Sooraya and Alex that I had to drop to make the chapter length of this chap manageable, and some more on Genosha, and Logan returns from his trip with Jamie. And probably more that I'm forgetting right now!_

_Thanks for the great reviews last chap!_


	4. Chapter 4: Mississippi

**_Disclaimer: X-men is owned by Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway ;)_**

_A/N:__Wow, can't believe it's been so long. What, two years now (plus 4 months)? I apologize for leaving this untouched, without even a word to you guys. _

_Shortly after I posted Chapter 3 I was at the doctor's for my yearly checkup, and they found cancer. It was pretty far progressed, and I had to have surgery right away, and have been fighting it since then. Chemo and radiation took its toll, and all my energy was spent just staying alive. I thought a few times about picking this up on better days but really, a funeral isn't exactly something you want to write about when your doctor tells you you've got a 40% chance of fighting off your cancer. I should have let you guys know with a note or something, so I'm sorry for dropping the ball. _

_Now, I've been cancer-free for a full six months, and am starting to feel like myself again, and starting to feel like writing again. Meanwhile I've been catching up on everything I've missed – apparently Rogue broke up with Remy (grrrrr), flirted with the idea of being with Magneto (gag me, that relationship that should never have happened should be deaddeaddeadintheground) and the X-Men fought the Avengers and the Phoenix went even loonier than usual? I've missed a heck of a lot and am slowly working my way through comic-land. I'll probably be taking it slow coming back, but I am determined to finish this story if I can (and God willing, I stay cancer-free for the rest of my life). _

_Hopefully some of the readers who read X3 The Ace Of Spades, and then this, are still around and still interested. I've put together a summary of X3 at the beginning of chapter 1 of this fic, so if you don't feel like reading it again, or just want a quick refresher of where things have gone up until now, read that._

_I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, and still want to read this sequel._

_**Chapter 4: Mississippi **_

* * *

"Cody's dead," Rogue replied with a choked whisper, staring at Remy with a lost, helpless look in her eyes.

"Oh, _Chére_," Remy said softly, moving forward to grab her shoulders. "What happened?"

"H-he's been getting' a lot of bed sores an' infections the last few months, an' Ah guess this time it turned inta sepsis or somethin'. All… all his organs shut down, an' they had ta take him off of life support." Rogue said shakily, her eyes dropping down to her gloved hands. "If Ah hadn't…. he was only there in that coma because of me."

Her face crumpled, and she let Remy pull her forward, face flush against his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry, _Chére_. I'm so sorry," Remy whispered into her ear.

"It's mah fault," she muttered darkly into his chest. "He never even woke up!"

/

Remy ran his hand up and down her back, slowly maneuvering them closer to a couch. "I know, _ma Chére_. It hurts – I know." He said soothingly, as he managed to get them sitting on the couch as she curled up into his side, her arms wrapped tightly around him.

Rogue nearly jumped when she felt another, much smaller pair of arms suddenly encircle her waist. She turned her head to the side against Remy's chest, and realized Sarah had ended her conversation with Rahne and come over to her.

"I'm sorry about your friend, Rogue," Sarah said softly, looking up at her. She'd heard Rogue mention 'Cody' once or twice in the past, but it had always while talking to Remy, and it had always been cryptic to her – she had gathered Cody was a friend of Rogue's, but hadn't known anything more than that, until now.

Rogue tried falteringly to smile. "Thanks, sweetie," she whispered, moving one arm from around Remy's waist to place it around the younger girl's shoulders.

Remy looked down at Rogue seriously. "You'll get through dis, _Chére. _Y'got both of us."

Rogue closed her eyes, and rested her forehead against his chest, and he could tell she was trying to hold in her pain. "Ah know." She said softly.

There were several, quiet minutes where none of them said a word, as they let Rogue fully absorb what she'd been told, and she finally began speaking to them, her voice low, almost emotionless.

"That was Cody's father. His mom has been keepin' in touch with me. Even when Ah left, an' went on the road, she made sure ah had her number. Ta….. ta jus' call, see if he was doin' better, or if Ah jus' needed to talk t'someone. She…." Rogue shook her head, closing her eyes again. "She didn' blame me for what happened. Neither of his parents did. They're the nicest folks yah could meet, even when Ah put their son in the hospital, they…. still cared about me, an' what it was doin' to me."

Rogue took a shuddering breath. "His dad…. He tol' me the funeral's in two days, on Friday. They want me t'come, to…. be there for it." She opened her eyes, and looked up at Remy pleadingly. "Ah – will yah go with me? Ah should go, even if it's jus' to lay him t'rest in mah own mind, see him one last time, say Ah'm sorry. An'…. Ah don' think Ah can handle it on mah own."

Remy nodded, looking at her with concern. "If you're sure, _Chére_, I'll be right dere wit' you. Y'don' have to face dis alone."

Rogue looked down for a moment, and then met his eyes. "Ah'm sure. Ah've gotta do this."

"I'll talk to Charles – get him to lend us one of de jets. An' if he doesn', we can always take off in de middle of de night, _hein_?" Remy said.

Rogue managed to laugh softly at the reminder of their night flight to pick up Sarah so many months ago, but he could still see the pain in her eyes.

"_Chére_," he said softly, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek.

She grabbed his wrist with her gloved hand, and he followed her gaze to the bare skin of his fingers. "Please, _Sugah_, not now – Ah, don't think Ah can handle that right now."

He nodded, and instead turned his arm and pulled her hand into his, and pressed a kiss into the palm against the brown glove she was wearing. "_Oui_."

Rogue squeezed his hand, and pulled back slightly from Remy and Sarah. "Ah…. Ah'm gonna go out walkin' for awhile, around the lake. Ah need tah be on mah own."

"Okay _Chére_. I'll get t'ings planned, don' worry about it." Remy said, and she forced out a grateful smile at Remy and Sarah before she turned, and walked slowly out of the room, toward the back door.

Sarah looked up at Remy, with worried eyes. "Will she be okay?"

Remy nodded, and snaked an arm around her shoulder, pulling her around to sit next to him. "_Oui_. She jus' needs some time. I know I would, hearin' somethin' like dat."

"Wh-who was he?" Sarah asked tentatively. "I heard her mention him a few times, before."

"Cody was her boyfriend, back in Miss'ippi. An', her first kiss…." Remy said softly.

Sarah's eyes widened as she connected the dots in her mind. "He… that's when her powers came out, wasn't it?"

Remy nodded. "He's been in a coma since den." He passed a hand over his face and sighed.

"That's awful," Sarah said sadly, looking down at the bones protruding from her knuckles. "I never really hurt anyone when mine came, an' that was bad enough."

Remy absently kissed her forehead. "I know how she's feelin'. But 'least it wasn' someone I knew, like dat." He shook his head.

Sarah leaned in closer, and hugged him tightly. "You're leavin' me here with Storm, aren't ya?" Sarah asked softly.

Remy chuckled and glanced down at her. "_Oui_, my smart little _fille_. I think it'll be best for her if it's jus' de two of us, an' dere'll be a lot less explainin' things if she's got jus' one stranger wit' her while she's dere."

Sarah frowned, but nodded. "Okay." She leaned up and kissed Remy's cheek. "Take care of Rogue."

"Dat's a promise, Sarah."

* * *

Lorna sighed in relief as she sat down on the blanket that Warren had brought outside, and then laid back and joined him in lying out on the lawn of the mansion in the warm summer sun. She rested her head on the arm he'd outstretched for her, and glanced over at him, smiling wearily.

"Well, I think the worst of it is over." She reached up and rubbed at her jaw. "I was beginning to think my mouth was going to go numb from all that talking," she said, referring to the last two days since the announcement of Mutants Without Borders.

She'd stayed at the office with him and the other employees – now supplemented by an intern, Grace Tveit, hired the day after the announcement – who was a student at the local community college that Rogue, Kitty, and the others were attending, and that Lorna would soon be taking classes at. The days had been filled with answering phone-calls from various people, and while there were some rather hateful calls phoned in, the greater amount were positive, even many asking how to send in financial support for their organization.

"Hey, do you remember that one group, Gene Equality or something? They were on the news a few times at the beginning of the summer when they did those silent protests at mutant funerals when the Church Of Humanity came to harass the families?"

Warren nodded as she ran a finger along his chest. "Right, I remember seeing a few interviews with them, they were one of the groups that made me realize I was doing the right thing starting this."

"Wellllll," Lorna said dragging the word out teasingly. "They called, while you were on the phone with the Red Cross, and they asked us to send them information on how to start a branch of Mutants Without Borders over in the Midwest."

"Really?" Warren asked, his eyes widening.

"Yup. I got their address and told them we'd send them all of the information. I guess they've had that success with the funerals, but haven't been able to get much traction, and they think your ideas would give them that, as well as the attention you've already brought to this. Their members held an emergency session yesterday and voted unanimously to turn Gene Equality into Mutants Without Borders, if we'll let them and help them along."

"Wow," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "I didn't expect that, that's great! How many are there in the group?"

"I guess they've got around four hundred who regularly attend meetings, but with part-timers they've got closer to eight. They said they even have some who live up in the New York area that have traveled out to join them in protests, and gave me an e-mail address of one of the leaders of them, so we might have more helpers here."

Warren grinned, and pulled her close for a kiss, meshing his fingers in her green hair. "You know, that means we can have that branch up and running by the time we have the UK one ready."

Lorna squirmed as he moved to kiss along a ticklish spot on the skin of her neck. "I-ah know, this is more than we were even thinking of – stop that, you brat, you know I'm ticklish there," she said, poking him in the ribs.

Warren laughed and let her settle back on his arm, only for her to raise her head again the next moment. He glanced down and saw she was staring over at the mansion, and as he followed her gaze, he watched as well as a visibly upset Rogue walked down the path toward the stables and the lake.

"Wonder what happened," Warren said softly. "Do you think I should-"

Lorna put a slender finger to his lips. "Shush, I think she'd feel better with a bit of girl-talk, not angel-boy talk. You stay here and save those kisses for when I get back." She pushed herself up to a standing position as he nodded, and then started after Rogue.

* * *

"Hey," Lorna said quietly, having let Rogue stand and stare out over the surface of the lake for several minutes.

Rogue jumped slightly, and when she turned, Lorna could see anguish painted across her face. "Hey. Yah need somethin'?"

Lorna shook her head. "Just checking on you, you looked upset. Did Remy do something? Should I be going in and kicking his ass for you?"

One corner of Rogue's lips twitched slightly upward in a sad smile. "Naw, wasn't Remy. Ah could kick his ass into orbit anyway, if Ah wanted to."

Lorna moved closer, until she was standing next to her friend. When she put an arm around her shoulder, Rogue tensed – much more than she'd ever seen her do at such a contact. "Wanna talk about it?"

Rogue turned her troubled gaze back out to the lake, and just stood there with her muscles tensed as if she were ready to bolt at any second. The wind and the sound of waves lapping against the shore of the pond were the only sounds for several long minutes, before she finally saw Rogue swallow heavily several times, and open her mouth.

"Ah just got a phone call. A friend of mine died."

Lorna slowly squeezed Rogue's shoulder. "I'm sorry. A close friend I'm guessing?"

"Mah first boyfriend. Mah powers emerged when we kissed, and he's been in a coma ever since."

Lorna let her grip on Rogue's shoulders tighten further. "Damn, I'm really sorry, that's got to be horrible. You're….. you blame yourself, don't you?"

Rogue looked over at her, her lips quivering. "Who else? Ah'm the one that did it. Mah lips. Mah powers."

Lorna grimaced mentally. "You didn't know, though. That's what sucks about us, usually our powers tend to find the worst, most stressful or emotionally charged time possible to emerge. Warren says his started while his dad was talking crap about mutants, and when he went to the bathroom to see what was happening, he was terrified. He…" she glanced over in the direction of Warren. "I think he'd be fine with me telling you this, as long as you don't tell anyone else… he used a razor every time his wings started sprouting out of his back, and cut them away until the next time. Finally his father caught him."

Lorna breathed out a sigh. "My story's not nearly as… grim as yours or Warren's, but the timing still sucked. I'd just bought my first car, using money I'd saved up over the summer. It was a rickety old thing, but it had an engine and wheels and was going to get me around. Of course, on my way home - being California - I ran into a traffic jam. Some jerk started tailgating me, and between that, the heat, and the traffic, I lost it. Mutant road rage sucks," she said grinning wryly. "My powers came out and suddenly I found myself sitting in my seat on the road with the pieces of my disassembled car lying around me, and just like that all my work over the summer was a complete waste. And trying to explain to a cop why your car suddenly ripped itself apart in the middle of the highway isn't very fun."

She was glad Rogue was unable to hold back a smile, and a short laugh at that. "Anyway Rogue, my point is, we can't control these powers without help, and we certainly can't control when they decide to screw us over by popping up out of nowhere. So don't blame yourself."

Rogue sighed and her shoulders slumped. "Ah'm tryin' – Ah have been since it happened. Ah've even come close to convincin' myself of that, but this… just brought it all pourin' back in on me."

"Have you told Remy yet?" Lorna asked, watching Rogue's face flicker through a wide range of expressions.

Rogue glanced back in the direction of the mansion. "Yeah. He's comin' to the funeral with me. Ah'd never be able ta handle goin' without him."

Lorna smiled. "Good, lean on him as much as you can, he can handle whatever you throw at him. Don't try shouldering all this on your own." She squeezed Rogue's shoulders again. "You want to go riding or anything? Get your mind off of all this?"

Rogue shook her head after a moment's hesitation. "Naw, yah go on back ta Warren. Ah'll be fine here – Ah just need some time ta think."

Lorna reluctantly removed her arm from Rogue's shoulders, and reached down to give her gloved hand a quick squeeze. "Alright, but if you need anything just ask."

Rogue half-turned. "Actually… we're probably gonna have Ororo keep an eye on Sarah, but she could probably use some help…?"

"Say no more," Lorna grinned. "I'll be happy to help keep the munchkin occupied."

Rogue nodded gratefully, and as Lorna walked back toward Warren, she sat down on a long flat rock at the shore of the pond, and ran her gloved fingers through the warm grass, lost in thoughts of the past, before she'd discovered she was a mutant. Before Cody had been confined to a hospital bed.

* * *

The long flight down to Mississippi on Friday was quiet. Nothing at all like their flight to Louisiana to pick up Sarah had been, but then the occasion behind the flight was much different. It wasn't that Rogue wasn't talking with him, though, he simply let her sleep the entire way.

Remy knew she hadn't slept at all since she'd gotten the phone call – he had heard it in her voice, the way she held herself. Even if her body wasn't tired, her mind had been exhausted from everything that was happening and the lack of sleep.

He'd simply shifted the jet into autopilot and watched as she slept fitfully, curled up on the reclined co-pilot's seat. It wasn't he lowered the jet down into a country field and switched on the stealth systems that she began to stir from her sleep.

"Hey," she said softly as she opened her eyes and spotted him watching her.

"Have a good sleep?" Remy asked, reaching out to grab her gloved hand and bring it up to his lips.

She yawned, and nodded, sitting up. "Yeah. Where are we?"

"Just landed. Now we just gotta walk a mile to de rental car agency."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at her watch. "Really? Damn, Ah'm sorry, Sugah, Ah was gonna keep yah company," she stopped when he shook his head.

"_Non_, don' be sorry, _Chére_, you needed de rest. B'sides, I kept m'self occupied. Made up my own sport. It's called Rogue watchin' – last I heard I was voted de MVP," he said with a wink.

Rogue smiled slightly – but it was the first fully genuine smile he'd seen from her since the phone call. "You're such a dork," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Mm-hmmm. But you're stuck wit' me, _ma Chére_."

She watched him stand up and then reach out a hand to her. "Ah guess yah can be a useful dork." She said, letting him pull her to her feet.

He leaned forward and carefully kissed her hair. She felt a guilt stab straight through her heart at that, so she pulled back and tilted her head. She placed a hand on the back of his head and pulled him forward so his lips met her cheek. "It's alright t'touch now, Remy," she said softly. "Ah'm sorry, Ah – it was just findin' out about that, it woulda just made me break down, Ah couldn't handle it. Ah'm okay now."

Remy nodded, and traced her jaw with his fingertips. "I know, _ma Chére._"

She sighed shakily at the comfort she felt from his skin against hers. "Let's…. let's go get our car."

Remy slid his hand into hers and they left the jet, closing up the door behind them to leave the unkempt field looking just as it had before they had landed, and walked through the field to the nearby road that led into Meridian.

It was silent and still as they walked, the afternoon sun beating down on them hotly. It was a Thursday, so most people in the town were at work, and they saw very few cars speed past them on the roadway.

Remy wiped at a bead of sweat that started to run down his face. "Damn, _Chére_, I almost forgot how hot an' humid it can get down here in August. Spent so long up north, even b'fore I came to de mansion… sometimes I'm surprised at what I miss down here."

Rogue looked at him, a hint of concern on her face. "Yah… yah won't be in trouble comin' this far south, will yah? With the Guilds, Ah mean."

Remy shook his head. "_Non_, jus' Jefferson Parish is off-limits." He squeezed her hand. "Still woulda gone for you if dat's where dis had been, though."

She smiled, and walked closer, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Thanks, Remy," she whispered into his ear.

Coming off the jet, Rogue seemed much more relaxed than she had been the previous day, but that seemed to change before his eyes with each step they took, especially when they passed the 'Welcome to Meridian' sign.

"What's wrong, _Chére_?" He asked finally as her grip on his hand became rather tight. "Besides de obvious. I know we're meetin' his parents once we get de car, but y'said dey don' blame you."

She sighed. "They don't…. Ah just….. Remy, it's not just gonna be them there. Ah'm not worried 'bout them, other'n the guilt Ah'll feel when Ah see them. But ev'ryone else? Ah…. Everyone looked at me like Ah was a monster the week b'fore Ah ran away. Ah jus' don' know what to expect. An' Ah'm pretty sure mah parents are gonna be at the funeral. Things weren' real pretty when Ah talked to them last." She said, her voice trembling slightly at the end.

Remy frowned, and turned his head to kiss her behind the ear. "You don' worry 'bout dem, _Chére_. You helped Carol deal wit' her father, I'll be right here t'help you deal with your parents."

She was silent, walking next to him, so he continued. "You know you need to do dis. Even if things don't get any better. You need to confront them, put de past to rest so it doesn' eat at you for de rest of your life. If dey're not willin' to accept you for who y'are, you jus' say what you need to, an' make 'em realize you got a real family back at de mansion dat doesn't treat you like dey have."

Rogue slowly looked up at him, a hesitant smile on her face. "Thanks…. you're right. Ah need get rid of all mah demons while Ah'm here."

"_Oui_. Now, let's get dat car an' start takin' care of y'first one, _hein_?" Remy asked, nodding toward the rental car lot across the street from where they were now walking.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, they had driven out of the lot with a rented luxury sedan, and into the city of Meridian. Remy let her guide him down the roads, enjoying the little stories she told as they passed landmarks familiar to her.

"Turn right here," Rogue said softly as they came up on an intersection.

He slowed slightly and turned onto the smaller side road, looking with interest at the large school buildings to their left.

"This was mah High School. Went here almost all four years b'fore Ah ran away," she said.

"Looks like the football team's got some summer practice," she nodded toward the fence along the side of the road that kept any stray footballs from flying out of the large area of the football field. A large group of uniformed teenagers in full gear was running through a variety of drills across the large field, and Remy watched with interest as they slowly drove past.

"Hm, brings back memories. Did you know I was on de football team back in high school?" Remy asked, glancing over the top of his sunglasses at her.

Rogue's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Oh, _oui_, I was. I was a runnin' back, 'least before my powers popped up. We took de team to state finals an' won de championship one of de years I played."

Rogue smiled slightly, running her gaze over him. "Never woulda pegged yah as one of th'jocks at high school. Yah musta been one of the skinny jackrabbit runnin' backs."

Remy grinned and nodded. "Slippery as an eel. Guild trainin' made dat easy."

Rogue's eyes warmed slightly and he felt a slight lift in her emotions but he couldn't make out exactly what she was feeling.

"Turn again up here," she said, breaking her gaze to gesture to the right on another road. She was glad he was trying his best to keep her mind off things, and she couldn't help the bit of delight she felt every time he revealed more of his past to her.

Remy turned down the road, which led down a long stretch of residential area, both sides lined with homes of various sizes, nearly all with large shade trees in the front and along the street.

Rogue pointed ahead. "That's their house," she said quietly. "The one with the fire truck mailbox. Paul, uh, that's Cody's dad, used t'be a firefighter, had t'quit when he got hurt, back when we were in our first year of high school."

Remy slowed the car, and pulled up to the curb in front of the small brick-fronted house. A beat-up Ford pickup rested in the driveway near the house, and several smaller cars took up the remaining drive-way space, so he set the car in park along the road, and shut off the engine.

Remy sat quietly, watching Rogue who was gazing out the passenger window at the house, her emotions jumbled enough that he forced himself to pull back with his empathy to avoid a headache.

Rogue finally turned back to look at him, and gave him a weak smile when he reached out and squeezed her hand. "Let's go," she said softly before she turned and pulled the door handle.

Remy hopped out his side and locked the doors before rounding the front bumper, and grabbing her hand as she neared the front of the car, and they started up the driveway together.

She ran a gloved finger over the hood of the pickup as they passed it, and her gaze hung wistfully on it. "It was gonna be Cody's. When he graduated. We were gonna go 'cross the country in it, jus' the two of us. That was the last thing we talked about, before…." she sighed, and broke her gaze, settling her eyes on Remy's face. "Ah ended up makin' the trip mahself. Never woulda met Logan otherwise. Weird how good things can come from such bad stuff."

Remy nodded, thinking of how he'd never have met her – or Sarah – if it hadn't been for the tunnel massacre he'd played a role in. "_Oui_, I know." He said softly.

Rogue's grip on his hand tightened as they continued up the sidewalk, and as they got up on the front porch, she knocked softly on the front door.

It was a long minute before they heard footsteps inside, and then the door swung open to reveal a tall, muscular man with a receding hairline. His features were haggard, clearly he'd had little sleep, but a small smile crept over his face. "Marie? Is that you? Damn, you've really grown up. I'm glad you were able to make it down here in time."

Rogue blushed slightly. "Thanks, Paul. This's Remy, Remy, this is Paul – Cody's dad."

Paul nodded in greeting, and then stepped back, gesturing them to come in. "Come on in, most of the family is here." He turned his head. "Abbie, Marie's here," he called into the house.

Rogue and Remy entered the house, Paul closing the door behind them, and they kicked off their shoes next to a large pile of other shoes near the doorway.

Footsteps came down the hall, and a short, middle-aged woman came around the corner. She had a head full of bright curly red hair held back in a bushy ponytail, and warm blue eyes that were marred with obvious tear-tracks and redness.

"Marie," she said softly, rushing forward to envelop Rogue into a firm hug. "I'm so glad y' came. He'd've wanted y' here, darlin'."

"Thanks Abigail, Ah… Ah'm sorry."

Abigail pulled back and shook her head. "Nonsense, girl, I thought I talked y' out of this. Y'aren't to blame for it."

Rogue nodded, and tightened her hug on the shorter woman, hanging onto her like a lifeline. "Y-yah doin' alright y'self?" Rogue asked, her voice muffled.

"We're gettin' by. One day at a time. We had an idea he was passin' for the last few weeks, so we've had plenty of time t'say our goodbyes. That's part of why I wanted y' to come so you can say y'r own. It still hurts, but not as much even now, an' I don't want a girl like y' beatin' y'self up over this the rest of y'r life. Y' need closure as much as we do, Marie," Abigail said quietly.

Abigail pulled back, and a smile came to her face when she saw Remy standing back behind Rogue, next to Paul. "Don't be shy, now. My, you're a handsome one. I'm Abigail. What's your name?

"Remy LeBeau. It's a pleasure meetin' you, ma'am," he said, taking her hand gently.

Abigail smiled. "Well I'm glad to see Marie has an eye for boys with manners," she said.

Rogue blushed. "Well, he has 'em sometimes, when they're needed."

Abigail nodded, and grabbed Remy into a hug, surprising him. "Thank y' for takin' care of Marie, darlin', an' comin' down here to support her."

Remy grinned, the energetic woman reminding him much of his _Tante_ Mattie. "Course. Woulda never thought of doin' anythin' else. I'm very sorry 'bout your son."

"Thank you," she said, wiping away a tear. "My Cody was such a smart, bright boy. Sometimes I wonder why the Lord chose to take him at his prime like that." She shook her head. "Enough dark thoughts, though, we'll have enough time t'cry tomorrow. Remy, why don't y' go with my husband, meet the rest of the family, get y'self a beer. Dinner's almost ready, an' I'd like Marie to help me, so we can catch up."

Remy stepped forward, and squeezed Rogue's shoulder. When she nodded, a slight smile on her face assuring him she'd be okay, he followed Paul toward the family room where he could hear a somewhat boisterous conversation going on.

Rogue followed Abigail toward the kitchen, where the smells of potatoes, gravy, and a chicken in the oven overwhelmed her senses. It had been so long since she'd been back here, she'd forgotten what it was like.

"He seems like a very nice boy. Handsome lil' devil too." Abigail said as she grabbed a wooden spoon and started stirring the mashed potatoes.

"He is." Rogue said softly. "Ah… love him."

Abigail smiled sadly, and looked over to her, resting a hand on her arm. "I could see it, darlin'. I wish y' coulda had it with Cody, but… some things aren't meant to be. I think he'd be happy for y'. He loved y', y'know? He'd want y' to move on."

Rogue gave a trembling smile. "Ah know. But… Ah… Ah can't cry!" She finally blurted out, her throat tightening. "Ah've tried, an' tried, an' tried since Paul tol' me, but Ah- Ah just can't. Ah'm a horrible-"

"Oh, Marie," Abigail sighed, cutting her off and taking the trembling girl into her arms again. "It's okay. You'll cry when y'r good and ready. I was the same way. An' when it hits ya, it'll hit hard, but then after it'll get a little easier. 'Specially if you have your Remy there to help you through it."

Rogue gripped the woman tightly, having become almost unconsciously aware over the past few months of how much strength she should use. "Ah hope so." She said, her voice sounding choked.

Abigail patted her back lightly, letting her hold on as long as she could. She finally straightened up to make sure the food didn't burn. "So, darlin', I wasn't lyin' when I said I wanted to catch up. It's been, what, a month since we talked? How've things been goin'? With your powers and all that, that your Professor has you workin' on?"

Rogue sighed slightly. "Ah've been doing okay. Ah've gotten it to about a minute of not absorbin' at all, an' with Remy Ah've been able to slow it down a lot. We c'n usually touch several minutes straight before it really starts hittin' him."

"That's great, Marie. You'll get there 'ventually, I know it. Now what's all this I hear about D.C.? I ain't seen it myself, but Paul swore he saw y' on the news, helpin' those people."

Rogue smiled, realizing the woman was trying to get both their minds off of the coming funeral. "He probably did see me. A few of us from the school, along with Remy an' me, we were vacationin' down there when the hurricane hit. We got away from the worst of it, an' one of the girls, Lorna, is the girlfriend of Warren Worthington III."

Abigail's eyes widened. "Ah, that fella that is startin' that Mutants Without Borders thing."

Rogue nodded. "Yep. Lorna thought it'd be good to help out, and we all agreed, an' we searched 'till we found a place that'd let us help. We did all we could there, an' jus' got back the other day."

"Wonderful," Abigail said. "It's great to see your generation is so willin' to help out like that. Sometimes…. I swear, there's a lotta bad seeds in my generation, all this mutant-hatin' nonsense they have goin' on."

Abigail shook her head, and then handed Rogue a pile of dishes. "Be a dear an' set those out for me, an' then let everyone know dinner's ready."

* * *

Remy sat back, his arm across the back of Rogue's chair, chuckling at Robert's – Cody's older brother – animated re-telling of one of Cody's first football games, the first time he'd been tossed in as quarterback the first and second string quarterbacks had both been injured.

He glanced over at Rogue – her eyes were warm, and her attention was on Robert and Paul as they started arguing good-naturedly over just how long Cody's first pass had been. The Robbins family was large, and seemed very close, the two dozen siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles there that evening all seeming to fit together perfectly as one big family.

It had been a bit overwhelming at first, when Paul had handed him a beer, and brought him into the crowded family room and started introducing everyone, but they'd all been welcoming. Especially when they heard he had come with Rogue – he was glad they'd seemed to have taken her into their family after her own had basically told her not to come back, even when they of all people had every reason not to.

The dinner had been similar to what he was used to at family get-togethers back down in Louisiana – nice and slow, more talking than eating, even if it stretched dinner out over two hours. And the food was _good_ and there was a lot of it. He'd made sure to eat his fill, as did everyone else, and there were clearly still leftovers sitting around.

But finally, as Robert's story ended, things seemed to start dying down, and he spotted several get up and say a quiet goodbye to Abigail and Paul, before gathering their youngsters to head to wherever they were staying.

Rogue looked up at him, and he squeezed her shoulder. "We should get goin' too, _Chére_. Check into our hotel."

She nodded, and stood up slowly with him.

"Y' headin' out, Marie?" Abigail called.

Rogue nodded. "Yeah, we should get goin'. Remy didn' sleep on the flight down, we're gonna go find the hotel."

Abigail smiled. "Alright y' two, see y' tomorrow. Remember the viewin' an' the wake starts at nine, an' dependin' how many show up it could go 'till ten-thirty. When we're done we'll ride down to th'cemetery. That one'll be more private, jus' family an' close friends, so I want y'all to come to that too, okay?"

"We'll be there, ma'am," Remy said quietly, his arm curling around Rogue's waist as he saw tears start appearing in Abigail's eyes at talking about tomorrow's events. "Thank you for dinner. Y'got a nice family."

Abigail sniffled slightly. "Y'welcome Remy. Get some rest." She shot him a stern look afterwards, before her eyes tracked meaningfully to Rogue, a clear message of '_and take care of Rogue tonight_' in that look.

He nodded, and they turned to leave, only to stop as Robert called out. "Hey, Legs," he said, using the nickname he'd given to Remy –who was nearly a foot taller than him – within minutes of their first conversation, "Marie! We're doin' a little family football game out on the school field tomorrow, 'round four, in honor of Cody – I think he'd like it. Y'both welcome to join us."

Rogue flashed a bright smile at the inclusion. "Sure. We can stay for a while an' play."

Robert nodded, and then turned back to the conversation he'd been having with one of his cousins, and they left the Robbins house shortly after, being stopped a few times on the way out with goodnights from the others.

* * *

Remy sat up in the bed he and Rogue were sharing at the motel, and squinted at the clock, which read two in the morning. "What's up, _Chére_," he said, blinking sleepily at her where she was sitting up toward the end of the bed, arms around her knees.

She turned around, startled, and even in the dim light from the lights outside their window, he could see she looked lost, helpless, eyes pleading for help. "R-Remy, I–" she started, her voice cracking.

In the next moment, she was across the bed and in his arms, gripping onto him tightly as her body wracked with sobs and her tears soaked his shirt through.

Remy smiled softly as he stroked her hair, whispering soft words in her ear as she broke down. He'd been expecting it, waiting for it. He knew she'd been keeping it all welled up inside, and didn't think she'd cried until now, but all he had been able to do was wait until the dam broke, and hope he was there to hold her.

"W-why?" She sobbed, fists clenching his shirt to the point that he was sure it would have rips in it in the morning. "Why did it hafta happen to him? Why don' you an' Lorna an' Abby jus' let me blame mahself, when it was me – mah skin – that did it? Wh-why?"

Remy sighed, and moved his hand to rub her back. "Because, _Chére_, sometimes bad things jus' happen. An' dere ain't nothin' you can do about it. An' we won' let you blame y'self, because it ain't your fault - it wasn' anyone's fault. You're a sweet girl that loves ev'ryone. You an' Cody didn't deserve dis, but it happened. It jus' ain't your fault, _ma Chére_. We ain' gonna let you blame y'self because then this thing would ruin both y'lives, an none of us want that for ya. Cody wouldn' either."

Her shoulders shook under his hands, face still buried in his shirt. "H-hurts, so much."

"I know, _Chére_. B'lieve me, I know. An' it'll hurt tomorrow, an' de next day. But we're gonna be here for you. _I'm_ gonna be here for you, so's Sarah, an' Logan, an' Abigail, an' Stormy, an' everyone else dat loves ya. We'll get y'through dis."

"Thanks, Remy," she said, her voice still hitched, but her sobs slowing perceptibly. "Love ya."

"I love you too, _Chére_. I'm glad you finally let all dat out. I could tell you were buildin' it up de whole time, an' I was getting' worried 'bout…" He broke off as he felt her soft breath even out against his chest – she exhausted herself crying and fallen asleep.

He bent his head down and kissed her temple lightly. "_Bonne nuit_, _ma Chére_," he whispered, closing his eyes himself as he felt her weight settle in on his chest. He had a feeling tomorrow with her parents wasn't going to be pretty, but he hoped his gut was wrong. This definitely wasn't the time she should have to deal with them on top of everything else.

* * *

Logan stripped off the leather jacket he'd worn both for his trip out to Kentucky with Madrox, and for his ride to and from the private airfield that held the ride to the Helicarrier. He tossed his jacket over a workbench in the garage of the mansion, before entering through the door. He shook his head at the silence – after spending so much time through the busy school year, during the summer it was almost eerily quiet due to the lack of kids and teens. And with the large influx of students coming in just a week or so, who hadn't been part of the student body before, next summer promised to be even eerier.

Logan took in the scents of the mansion, as he had long ago developed the habit of when entering a building, and could smell someone cooking chicken in the oven. He could faintly hear Ororo's voice drifting down the hall, so he decided to stop by before heading up to take a much-needed shower after the last few days of being in a cramped car, and smoky bars, looking around for more intelligence on the Purifiers or their related Church of Humanity.

He stopped, framed in the doorway to the kitchen, and saw Sarah sitting on a stool next to the countertop, helping Ororo chop up potatoes into oblong shapes, likely for oven-cooked fries. Logan stepped into the kitchen and moved up alongside Ororo.

"Hey, 'Ro," he said, reaching out to grab her knife hand so she didn't accidentally cut herself when he startled her.

Ororo spun around. "Logan! I didn't think you'd be back already," she greeted him, kissing his stubble-covered cheek.

"Hi Logan," Sarah said from down the counter. "Didja catch any bad guys?"

Logan grinned, and shook his head, looking between Sarah and Ororo. "Not this time, kid. We did get some good information, so in a week or so we might be able to catch them in a big gathering."

He glanced around the empty kitchen. "Hey, is Rogue around? Or are she an' the Cajun out messin' around?"

Ororo's smile disappeared, and he felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach.

"Rogue's down in Mississippi, Logan. She got a call the other day, her friend Cody died so she's down there for the funeral."

"Damn." He'd been the first person she'd ever told about her first emergence of her powers. "How was she?"

"Not very well. She looked quite a mess, I don't think she's slept since she heard." Ororo said sadly.

"Remy's worried about her," Sarah added.

"Did he go down there with her?"

Ororo nodded. "They took one of the smaller jets down – the funeral is today, and they weren't sure if they'd be back tonight or tomorrow, I guess it depends on how she's feeling by the time it's over."

"Good, at least he'll be able ta keep her from beating herself up too much over this." Logan sighed. Of all the times for him to have been called away, he thought to himself. '_Shoulda been here_.'

Ororo placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it along, up to his neck. "She'll be okay, Logan. She's a tough one, she can handle it. And like you said, with Remy supporting her, she'll get through it."

Logan grunted, and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Ororo's until they began to hear fake gagging noises coming from behind Ororo. He pulled away and looked over at Sarah, who stopped, and then looked at him with innocent eyes.

"People eat in here – get a room!"

Logan grinned. "Brat. I bet if it was Remy and Rogue in here doing that, you wouldn't say a word."

Sara nodded firmly. "Yup!"

Logan chuckled along with Ororo, and then released his hold on her waist, and let her turn back to the cutting board she'd been using.

"Sarah, Logan hasn't heard what Remy did, yet, has he?" Ororo said, winking over at her.

"Oh!" Sarah sat up straight, and looked over at Logan, excitement dancing across her face. "Remy adopted me!"

Logan's eyebrows rose. "Really now? Cajun finally made it official? Congratulations, squirt," he said, reaching over to muss up her hair.

"Thanks," Sarah giggled. "It feels good having a real dad."

"I bet." He said. "Glad to see him settling down officially. Y'know he was adopted too – guess he's deciding to make it a family tradition."

Ororo smiled. "It's quite a thing to see. Remy's changed quite a bit since I first met him, and it's been for the better." She glanced down at her cutting board. "We were going to make enough for leftovers, but since you're here there's enough if you want some."

"Sure. Anything I can do to help"

Ororo rolled her eyes and reached back to give him a shove toward the door. "We all know that you and cooking don't mix, and I'd prefer my chicken not charred. Besides, you need to take a shower – it smells like you slept in a pile of cigarette butts."

Logan raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I know when I'm not needed. Be down in a few," he said, and made his way to the stairs, taking them two at a time up to his room, the only thought in his mind was his hope that Rogue was doing alright.

* * *

"Ready?" Remy asked quietly, placing a hand over Rogue's on the armrest of the car in between them. They'd just parked in the lot near the church, and Rogue could see dozens of people making their way toward Northcrest Baptist Church.

She took a breath, and then nodded. "Ah'm ready."

Remy opened his car door, and by the time she was getting out of her side he was already at the door, and took her hand to help her climb out. As he closed the door, she reached down and straightened her dress – a long black one with a slight ruffle to the skirt, which reached down to mid-calf. Remy had taken her out to a store before they'd come so they'd have something appropriate to wear for the funeral.

She glanced over to Remy, who was looking rather handsome in her opinion in his white dress shirt, dark suit and matching tie. He wasn't wearing his usual black-framed, dark-lensed sunglasses, but rather a brown pair with thin rims, the lenses much less opaque but enough that they still disguised his red-on-black eyes. Rogue reached out and grabbed his hand firmly in her own which were clad in long black gloves that matched her dress. Her other hand automatically went up to pat at her hair, which had been pulled back into a bun piled up on the back of her head.

"You look fine, _Chére_," Remy murmured, letting her slide her hand from his and then up into the crook of his elbow as she balanced precariously on her high-heels – something she'd almost never worn and was having trouble getting used to. "Just watch y'step."

"Thanks," she said glancing down in time to see the curb surrounding the parking lot and step up onto the sidewalk that led to the entryway of the church. "Yah ever been to a Baptist service?"

Remy shook his head. "Jus' Catholic, _Chére_."

"Well, if it wasn' a funeral Ah'd say it'd probably be a lot livelier, otherwise it's pretty similar. Y'should be fine, Ah don't think there'll be a Communion, but they ask only Baptists ta participate."

He nodded, and glanced over to her, knowing that keeping herself talking was helping her deal with her anxiety. "Figured as much."

They rounded the side of the church and came up to the large archways, which had tall glass doors set within them, several people holding the doors open for people entering. Within, groups of people were scattered about, talking quietly amongst themselves. Near the entrance to the nave where the congregants sat, a short man who looked in his fifties stood. He was balding, with his remaining hair shaved close to his head, his face round and red-cheeked.

They waited in a short line as he greeted those entering, until it was their turn to be greeted. He smiled brightly, and took Rogue's hand. "Marie, I'm glad you could make it. It's been so long, you've grown up beautifully."

Rogue flushed slightly. "Thank yah, it's good t'see yah too." She gestured to Remy, who moved forward to shake the man's hand as well. "This's Remy – Remy, this is Pastor Dan Lanier, he's been pastor here since b'fore Ah was born."

The pastor chuckled. "Now you're making me feel old," he said. "So, is this just a visit, for the funeral?"

Rogue smiled sadly. "Yeah."

Lanier nodded, shooting her a knowing look. "Well, it's good to see you again, Marie – you're always welcome here."

"Have… have yah seen mah parents?" Rogue asked hesitantly.

Lanier shook his head. "Not yet, I know they were invited – most of the town was. I actually haven't seen them outside of on the street every so often, ever since they left the church."

Rogue's eyes widened. "They left?" At Lanier's curious look, she clarified. "Ah… we had a fallin' out when Ah left, and it's gotten worse every time Ah call them. Ah haven't heard from them in almost half a year now."

"That explains a lot," Lanier said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, they left the church about a year ago to join up with that new church that started up in town, up north by the North Hills shopping center, it's one of those Church Of Humanity groups."

Remy reached up with his free hand and laid it over where hers rested on his arm, watching the pain of that news cross her face – not only was she estranged from them, but they'd actually gone and joined a rather rabidly anti-mutant church.

"Thanks, Ah didn' know," she said, smiling weakly, before letting Remy lead her in through the doors of the nave, while Lanier turned to greet the people who had been standing behind him.

Remy was about to speak quietly to her when they were met by Cody's brother Robert, who was one of the ushers. He passed them each a bulletin of the service, and nodded toward the front of the church. "Ma wants you two up in the front two rows with the rest of the family." He gestured over to a short line of people disappearing into another room. "The viewing's in there, if y'want t'see him - jus' head up by Ma and the rest when you're done."

"Alrigh'," Rogue said quietly, and glanced at Remy before pulling on his arm in the direction of the viewing room. "Ah'd rather see him now," she whispered to Remy.

He nodded, and walked with her up to the line, and within a few minutes they were at the entrance to the room where the casket lay open.

Rogue sucked in a deep breath, shifted her hand down his arm and to his own hand, and gripped it tightly as she took her first step into the room.

Tears filled her eyes as she neared the coffin and she could see him, lying there so peacefully as if he were just asleep, waiting for someone to wake him up. He'd naturally aged a bit, even in the hospital in his coma, but he still had the same familiar boyish features she'd fallen for.

"Cody," she said in a shaking whisper, as she stared down at his closed eyes. "Ah'm sorry, for everythin'. Especially for bein' too afraid to come back 'til now." Rogue swallowed heavily, and tightened her grip almost painfully on Remy's hand.

"Ah went on our trip – the one we planned together. Ended up in Canada an' met some great friends – Ah think you'd like them. Ah know yah would tell me tah stop blamin' mahself, an' Ah'm trying. Ah'm glad yah finally have some peace – thank yah for everythin'." She said waveringly, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Goodbye, Sugah, Ah'll always remember yah."

She turned away slightly, her hold becoming even tighter on Remy's hand. He hid a grimace, and handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. She used it to wipe at her eyes and nose, glad she'd thought beforehand to not wear any makeup that could run with her tears.

Remy ran a thumb over the back of her hand, and then glanced down at Cody. "Wish I coulda known you," he said quietly, "sounds like we woulda hit it off. Rest easy, I'll watch over Marie for you, long as she'll let me."

Rogue crumpled the handkerchief in her gloved hand, and smiled gratefully at Remy before they left the room together, and walked up to the second row of pews in the front. Cody's uncle Jonathan had saved spaces for them behind Abigail and Paul, and they quietly took their places, Remy taking off his sunglasses and sliding them into his pocket, knowing only Cody's family and the pastor would be able to see his eyes – he'd not wanted to cause any sort of stir on the way in.

Abigail turned, and shot them a tremulous smile. She leaned in close over the back of the pew, and grabbed Rogue's free hand. "Did y' go to the viewin' room?" She asked, looking knowingly at Rogue's tear-reddened eyes.

"Yeah. Said what Ah needed to... Thank yah again for invitin' me – us" she said.

Abigail nodded and patted her hand. "Y'welcome," she said, as Robert came up the aisle and leaned down next to his father. Paul got up, as did several other male relatives including Jonathan next to Rogue and Remy, and they walked back toward the viewing room as Pastor Lanier went up to the front of the church and stood behind the pulpit.

Several minutes later a slow, mournful tune began to play on the organ, as Robert, Paul, and the others carried Cody's casket up the center aisle, and laid it to rest in front of the altar area before returning to their seats.

The song ended, and then at a gesture from Lanier, they all stood up, opening their hymnals as instructed by the bulletin, and the music to the hymn '_How Great Thou Art_' began to play to open the service.

* * *

As the music finished, Lanier stepped out to the middle of the altar area, directly above where Cody's casket lay, and looked out at everyone in the pews.

"On behalf of the Robbins family," he began, a hint of a southern drawl more clear in his voice than had been when they'd spoken to him outside the nave. "I would like to thank you for being here today. We have come here today – some people call it a funeral service, others a memorial service – but for Cody we have come for celebration. To celebrate his life, both the one cut short here on this earth, and his eternal life with his Father in heaven. He was born David Cody Robbins, but I think all of us here just knew him as Cody, and most of us know he would want us not to mourn his passing, but remember instead the love, humor, and delight he brought into our lives."

"I've known Cody since he was only a few weeks old, and he's always been a bright light in this church. I taught him for many years, and when he turned fourteen, he expressed his faith, and I baptized him. Afterwards he shared with me his favorite verse from the bible, and I think that it is one that is a comfort to all of us just as it was to him, and one that couldn't be any more suitable for a gathering such as this."

"It's from John, at the beginning of Chapter 14: '_Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. And where I go you know, and the way you know.'"_

"Now, we know that Christ prepared a place for each of us to go when we die – he prepared heaven for our arrival, for when we are to be washed in his blood, and our sins forgiven, to live with him for eternity. Cody has already gone on before us, and his place is sure, as Christ promised to us," Lanier said, gesturing out to them.

"Cody doesn't want us to weep for him, he wants us to rejoice for him, and for each other, even now that he is gone from our lives. There's another verse that always comes to my mind when I hear those verses from John, and this one is from First Thessalonians, and is another beautiful and poignant passage: '_For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.__For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive __and__ remain until the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who are asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive __and__ remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord._ '"

"We don't need to worry, or fear, as the Lord has promised that at the appointed time, we will join those who died before us, and shall always be with the Lord." Lanier said, moving across the altar as he spoke.

"Cody… he wanted to go to college, play football, and even dreamed of someday getting into the NFL. He dreamed of a family, and a home. He didn't get to live out those dreams, and at the Lord's choosing, instead left to his eternal home. But we're still here. We can still live out our lives as Cody would have wanted us to, doing everything for the glory of God, and trying our best in all that we do: in memory of him and in faith to our Lord."

Rogue dabbed at her face with the now rather-wet handkerchief as Remy slid an arm around her shoulder.

Lanier continued with several more verses and a number of more light-hearted stories about some of the things young Cody had gotten up to at the church, before turning them back to a hymn, '_Abide With Me_', as the service continued.

* * *

As the final notes of _Amazing Grace _faded in the air, the ushers came along and dismissed them, row by row, to wait outside as the casket was loaded into a hearse for the funeral procession down to the cemetery. Remy and Rogue stuck close to the Robbins family, and joined them at the graveside where the casket was to be interred. Pastor Lanier said a few more words and gave a reading of Psalm 23, and then each of them came up, one-by-one, to place a rose on the casket.

When all of the family and close friends had said their final goodbyes, they traveled back to the church, where members of the church had set up a large reception outside, complete with long folding tables covered with food for everyone.

As everyone milled around outside the church, Rogue and Remy found themselves toward the outer area of the gathering while people surrounded Abigail and Paul and the rest of their family, expressing their condolences. They were standing near a tall maple tree, speaking to an energetic woman in her sixties, named Linda Roske, who had apparently known Rogue since she was a little child, and Remy let them catch up.

"So are you sure we can't tempt you into moving back, Marie?" Linda asked her, a hopeful look on her face. "The town just hasn't been the same since you left."

Rogue smiled. "Ah'm sorry Linda, but as much as Ah love it here, Ah've found mah home, a place Ah can really belong, even more than here."

Linda nodded. "I understand, it was like that for me when I moved down here to be with Bob. I was a Midwest girl, but something about this place really clicked with me. Well… at least try to visit a bit more often, alright honey? It's amazing to see how much you've grown, and how mature you've become." Linda moved forward and pulled her into a hug. "You take care now, okay Marie?"

"Ah will," Rogue said warmly as the shorter woman pulled back from the hug. "Y'take care too. An' tell Bob Ah said hi, an' to start listenin' when y'tell him he shouldn' eat his oysters raw."

Linda guffawed, "I'll tell him that, maybe next time he'll be well and able to come around and see you."

Rogue leaned her head on Remy's shoulder as Linda walked away, and found another friend to talk to.

"You holdin' up?" Remy murmured into her hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head against his chin. "Ah'm doin' alri- oh, damn," she broke off her sentence, and he glanced down and saw her scrunch her eyes shut.

Across the yard, a man and a woman were walking almost purposefully toward them. The man was slim, his brown hair receding with white hairs peppering a well-trimmed moustache. The woman was short and somewhat dumpy looking, with her curly brown hair flowing messily down to her mid-back. Her face had a somewhat pinched expression, as if she had recently swallowed something incredibly bitter.

"Your parents?" Remy murmured, and Rogue opened her eyes again and sighed heavily.

"Yeah. John an' Donna D'Ancanto. Any chance of makin' a run for it?"

Remy chuckled softly. "_Non_. You got to face them. I'm here wit' you, I'll be right here de whole time."

"Traitor," she muttered weakly as her parents neared the two of them.

"Hi, mama, pa," Rogue said quietly to them.

"How _dare_ you?" Donna hissed. "How _dare_ you show your face here, of all places, at the funeral of the boy you killed. And to have the gall to sit up front by his family after you murdered their boy."

Rogue's eyes narrowed. "'Well hello to you too, Marie, how have you been doing up in New York?'" she said mockingly of the 'greeting' she'd received. "Mama, Ah 'dare' to come here because Abigail an' Paul invited me here. They treat me like a human bein', not some lowlife piece of trash like yah seem to think of me as. They love me more than mah own parents seem to."

Donna shook her head. "You're a disgraceful liar. Sometimes I wonder why we didn't see you for what you were when you let Anna die in that river. For all we know, y'drowned her yourself!"

Rogue's head rocked back as if slapped, and Remy saw a tear slip down her cheek at those words about her dead sister.

"Listen here," Remy said, breaking in, his tone dangerous. "You two created a beautiful, intelligent daughter, an' now that you found out she's a mutant, you tossed her aside like a piece of trash. Y'don' even appreciate what a wonderful person she is. You make me sick."

Donna laughed cruelly. "Daughter? She was never our daughter." Her husband John shot her a firm look, but she seemed to ignore him. "Anna was our daughter, our _real_ daughter. Marie was nothing but a _freak_ that we got tricked into taking."

"W-what do you mean?" Rogue asked, her face paling slightly.

Donna shook her head. "You're not our child. The doctor told us we'd never have kids, that I was essentially infertile. So we decided to adopt. And the adoption agency gave us you. You seemed like a normal little girl, but you turned out to be nothing more than a cuckoo's egg that we got tricked inta hatchin'. Just a few months after we brought you home, I got pregnant with Anna. She was our little miracle child. And because of you, she's dead – you let her die when you were supposed to be watchin' her. We should have seen the signs then, that there was somethin' wrong with you, but we didn't, and now a boy is dead as well, because of what you are."

Rogue was sure her legs would have given out underneath her if she hadn't had such a firm grip on Remy's hand and arm with both of her hands. This hadn't been how she'd envisioned this confrontation at all, and it felt like her entire world was coming down around her head. '_Adopted?_' She knew she hadn't looked much like either of them, but she'd always looked like Anna. Was that just a fluke? Did she really have some parents out there she never knew about?

She knew the reason her mother was telling her this here, and now of all places, was out of spite, but did that mean she could be making it up as well?

"Ah…. Ah don' believe you," Rogue said, her voice now icy. "You're lyin'."

The last hopes of it being something hurtful her mother had come up with went out the window when she saw her father, who was the more level-headed one, the less argumentative one, shake his head.

"I'm sorry, Marie." He shot a glare at his wife. "We shouldn't have told you like this, but it's true. We got you in a closed adoption. Anna was our only biological child. We… I'm sorry, we didn't sign up for this, for raising a mutant. They told us you were perfectly healthy, and there was nothing wrong with you. If we'd known, we'd have made sure you went to stay with your kind, before anything happened," he said, looking over toward the Robbins family.

Rogue shook her head, tears running town and dripping from her chin. "Ah don't even know yah. Y-you two aren' the people who raised me. Those people were nice, an' kind. You're bigots, her more than you," Rogue said, jabbing a finger at Donna , "but bigots all th'same. Ah'm glad you're not mah blood, if yah were Ah'd be ashamed of it. Anna woulda been ashamed of yah too. Ah don' ever wanna see either of yah again. Yah have fun at your little anti-mutant KKK church, an' leave these decent folk alone." She said, before she turned, ignoring the growing number of people around them beginning to watch the confrontation, and marched off toward the church.

Remy's fists were clenched, and he stared at the two for a moment, before slowly removing his sunglasses. He heard a few gasps amongst those of the reception who had been watching, but no reaction was more extreme than John and Donna's. the both paled and took a step back, and then another as he stepped closer to them, his voice dangerously low.

"You're pathetic, calling yourself parents and rejecting a girl when she needed you de most, and bringin' dis up, of all times. De Robbins' are more a family to her than you ever were. She's got family and friends, here an' in her new home, an' I agree wit' her – never show your faces to her again. Y'won' like my response if you do. Now get de hell outta here, and leave Marie – an' the people here tryin' t'show their support for a family that lost a young man – in peace."

Remy had been so focused on them, and the direction Rogue had gone in, he didn't even notice Abigail had come up behind him.

She moved up next to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the D'Ancantos. "That girl is one of th' sweetest, most carin' y'could ever meet - an' I think deep down you know that too, beneath your hatred for mutants. Not one person in my family blame her for what happened, an' neither should anyone else here. It was an accident. There ain't any controllin' somethin' like that."

She glared at them. "I invited y'here as a courtesy, because y'knew Cody. I didn' invite you here to treat your daughter – adopted or not – like that, because she don' deserve none of that. Please leave. Now."

Abigail's eyes swept over those gathered nearby, catching a few guilty looks from those who clearly had been thinking the same lines as John and Donna, toward Rogue, but most had a similar look of distaste directed toward the two interlopers. Donna and John seemed to sense the same general sentiment, and quickly turned and left without a word.

Abigail patted Remy's shoulder. "Go on, honey, go after her."

He smiled, and leaned down to kiss her cheek, leaving her blushing. "Yes ma'am."

"Oh, off with you, 'fore Paul starts thinking of gettin' out his shotgun t'protect me from Cajun charmers." She said, pushing him in the direction of the church.

* * *

Remy found her inside the church, on one of the front pews, her arms wrapped around herself, the handkerchief he'd given her now sodden. She was muttering quietly, either talking to herself or more likely to Carol. He quietly sat down next to her, and slid an arm around her shoulders, which were jerking in silent sobs, and he let her turn her head, leaning her face into his shoulder.

"They're gone now. Me an' Abigail chased 'em off." Remy whispered, as he ran a hand up and down her back.

"Thanks." Rogue mumbled into his chest, beginning to calm herself against him.

She pulled back slightly several minutes later, and used the now rather sad-looking handkerchief to wipe at her nose. "How could they do this to me? How could they have never told me?"

"I don' know, _Chére_. But I know she did it now, to hurt you. Y'can't let her. You got your own family –Me, Sarah, Logan, Everyone else at de Institute, an' y'got yourself some real great ones right here with Abigail an' her family. You don' need dem."

"Ah know," she said, her voice pained, ragged. "If this is how they really are, Ah'm glad Ah'm not really theirs. But… Anna, Ah always thought she was mah sister-"

Remy placed a finger to her lips. "_Non_, _Chére_. You _were_ her sister, an' she was yours. Blood don' change dat fact. Even if my _pére_ were de worst person in de world, it wouldn' make Henri suddenly not my _frère_." He ran a hand along her jaw. "They can't take dat from you."

Rogue nodded slowly, her eyes locking with his. "You're right, Sugah." She closed her eyes, a wry grin appearing on her lips. "Yeah, yah were right too, Carol."

Remy leaned forward and brushed a kiss over her forehead. "Y'can't argue wit' both of us."

"Remy?" Rogue asked hesitantly, clutching his suit. "Can we look for them? Mah… birth parents? Ah'd just like to know, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know what y'mean." He sighed, looking away, toward the cross that hung on the wall above the altar. "We'll try, _Chére_. I never found mine, but if dey used an adoption agency, we should be able to find yours. Might be a little outside of legal, but if anyone could it'd be Dan."

Rogue's smile lit up her face, and she leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, before pulling him into a tight hug. "Guess yah got a way of drawin' a certain type of girl t'you," she said. "Sarah, jus' adopted, glad she has nothin' to do with her birth father; me, adopted an' wishin' Ah knew mah birth parents an' not wantin' anythin' to do with mah adoptive parents."

Remy chuckled. "Don' forget Stormy, she grew up alone in Africa, never knew her parents. Guess I jus' attract fellow orphans t'me for some reason."

She moved slightly, resting her chin on his chest so she was looking up toward him. "Y'think we can maybe stay till tomorrow? Ah'd like to spend more time here, with Abbie."

He nodded. "We'll stay as long as y'want. You get your closure, I'll be right here wit' you while y'do it."

* * *

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed this, I know it's been ages but hopefully some of my readers are still around and willing to give it a go, as well as new folks willing to pick it up. Lots of emotional turmoil for our poor little Rogue, but she'll be the better for it in the future._

_I got inspired to pick this up again when a friend of mine gave me a bunch of the Marvel/DC movies that came out the last few years that I've missed. X-Men First Class was excellent (as was Avengers – best movie ever! – and the related films like Captain America). Watching First Class made me wish Matthew Vaughn (who directed it) had stayed on with X-Men The Last Stand (he was brought in as the director after Singer left, and left because things were too crazy production-wise). _

_Now I hear they are doing a X-Men 4 directed by Brian Singer (who did the first two and sadly left during the third – his plans sounded excellent and would have been my first choice followed by Vaughn), and it's going to be a Days Of Future Past one, and somehow meld the folks from the original 3 movies (woohoo, we get the same actress for Kitty in two movies in a row!), with the First Class movie – Days of Future Past is one of my fave storylines and with Singer back, I think it's gonna be a great film. Oh, and Peter Dinklage is going to be the villain = win!_

_Also, it seems they're rebooting Fantastic Four, and it will share a continuity with the X-men movies which is interesting._

_Next chapter will be rather less Remy/Rogue centric and focus on a number of the other characters, including what's going on with Genosha, and with Sooraya and Alex._

_Thanks for reading!_


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